


Hadrian & Celeste Potter: The Sorcerer's Stone

by Honey_Baby_Bee



Series: The Twins Who Lived: Hadrian & Celeste Potter [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: & | Friendship, / | Romance, F/M, Gen, Good Draco Malfoy, Good Lucius Malfoy, Good Narcissa Black Malfoy, Good Slytherins, Gryffindor vs. Slytherin Rivalry, Harry Potter Has a Twin, Mentor Severus Snape, Motherhood opened Petunia's eyes, Nice Draco Malfoy, Nice Petunia Dursley, Nice(ish) Severus Snape, No Twincest, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Parenthood opens eyes, Petunia Deserves Better, Rewrite, Ron Weasley can be a jerk, Severus Snape Has a Heart, Slightly OC Draco Malfoy, Slightly OC Lucius Malfoy, Slightly OC Narcissa Black Malfoy, Slightly OC Severus Snape, So can Harry, There will be crushes though, They are 11 so no romances yet, Vernon Dursley is a Jerk, so does living with Bellatrix's son
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-27
Updated: 2020-04-28
Packaged: 2020-10-31 13:09:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 90,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20794292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Honey_Baby_Bee/pseuds/Honey_Baby_Bee
Summary: Hadrian and Celeste have only really had each other. They share a room, a cupboard under the stairs, and everything else right down to the odd matching lightning bolt scars on their foreheads. What if, by chance, there is another world that they both belong to, a world full of magic, adventures, and friends. Will their bond survive this new world?Any familiar characters are J.K. Rowlings as is the main plot.





	1. The Twins Who Lived

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Italic are thoughts*  
*Underlined and italicized words are books*  
~ Happy Reading! ~

Chapter 1 | The Twins Who Lived

-~=~-~=~-~=~-

Midnight had fallen on a small English town; two distinct wails could be heard as a large cottage seemingly appears out of nowhere. Its red door, hanging open revealing the horror within its walls. A man lays motionless at the foot of the stairs, his limbs haphazard like he was trying to prevent someone or something from the stairs. However, as one’s eyes travel up the stairs, realization hits that it was a fruitless attempt when the eyes land on a shredded door that still swings on its hinges. That room is where the wailing originates. One’s heart shudders at the scene within, a woman lays motionless in front of a single crib containing the last living inhabitants of the cottage, twins with matching lightning bolt cuts on their foreheads. The twins are no more than one year old, as they stare together at the woman on the ground before them, their eyes matching her blue-green ones that stare unseeing at the ceiling. The young girl falls silent first, looking like she hushes her twin as the stairs creak. Her brother falls silent as well, staring at the door as a large man appears in the doorway, his eyes wet with unshed tears as he holds back a sob seeing the two siblings clinging to one another. The giant of a man sniffles as he forces his way into the room, the red-headed girl moving as if to block her twin, a raven-haired boy from view. The man sniffles once more before making a three-tone sound that seems to ease the girl as she reaches out to him expectantly. The shaggy man smiles shakily as he moves to pick the two up, careful not to disturb the twins’ mother or father as he exits the house.

~-=-~-=-~-=-~

A shiver runs down the tall willowy strawberry blonde woman’s black, her blue-green eyes keeping a fervent watch outside as her unease spikes again. Her husband steps behind her, a beefy tough-looking man compared to her lean statue. He kisses her cheek before moving to their son, a chunky-year-old strawberry blonde. She watches him try to kiss him too, but the little boy isn’t having it, throwing a tantrum because of the lack of candy. Yesterday was Halloween and Vernon, her husband, made the mistake of letting Dudley, the adorable, yet difficult, child, have sweets. “Little Tyke,” Vernon chuckles, waving at his wife Petunia before leaving for work. Hearing the door close, Petunia shakes herself out of her daze, trying to bury the restlessness she feels. Her day goes as all the ones before, trying to prevent a Dudley tantrum as she runs her errands. As she does, she tries to ignore the odd groups of people wearing cloaks that are oddly familiar. _You are just worried,_ she tells herself, _they are just like…_ She shakes that away looking at Dudley, trying to ignore the tinge of sadness that fills her. Chuckling to herself at her adorable boy as she walks near one such abnormal group.

“The Potters!?” exclaims one in horror. Petunia freezes on the spot, praying she heard them wrong. _Potter is a common name after all._ “Yes, gone. Their twins, Hadrian and…” Petunia’s heart stops despite her constant mantra that both names are fairly common. What does her in though is the second name, “Celeste, are alive.” She nearly collapses on the spot, all color disappearing from her face. One notices, “Hey, Miss, are you okay?” Her eyes flick to them, opening her mouth to speak before Dudley lets out a long cry. Silently grateful, she apologizes before rushing off with her wailing son. _Celeste can be a common name too,_ she lectures herself on her hurried way home, trying to forget. Mrs. Figg waves at her once she’s returned home, a little small sad smile on her face. Arabella Figg moved in a few months ago after her husband passed away. The small woman seemed to know more than she ought, and sometimes she swore that the older woman came from her sister’s world. A world she adamantly wanted nothing to do with that cost her so much, her sister.

Petunia’s sister, Lillian, is the only family she has left and she refused to inform her of her news, both her marriage and her son. The new Mrs. Dursley’s regret came as soon as she looked into her son’s eyes, the eyes that the sisters share, after his birth. By then though her sister had given up ever being part of her life. She blinks away tears as she enters the house, setting Dudley down, watching him tottle toward the telly. Sighing, she turns it on, wondering where she went wrong with the boy. _I wonder if Lily has problems with the twins._ A pain tears through her heart, remembering what she overheard. _Please let it not be her._

When Vernon returns home, he finds Petunia cooking dinner, their son still lost to the telly. Feeling his tension at dinner, she tries to sidetrack him about her day, leaving out the strange people. Telling him about Dudley’s new word, “won’t,” that causes him to chuckle and her to cringe. She tries hard to forget that her son acts a bit too much like his father. Vernon takes Dudley with him to the telly, she moves to the kitchen to prepare some tea. Her eyes flick to the window again, seeing an owl fly past and she tells herself that it is her imagination. _It must be. They’d never be so open with their…_ she stops, shaking it away focusing on anything else. It works wonderfully until Dudley is in bed, throwing yet another tantrum, and she brings her husband his tea.

“Er – Petunia, dear – you haven’t heard from your sister lately, have you?” Vernon asks, clearing his throat nervously. His wife freezes, her eyes flicking to him in shock. Internally, Vernon curses. “No,” she replies shortly, her brain trying to figure out reasons why he, her strict uncreative husband, would ask. Her heart pounding when she adds, “Why?” She eases slightly, knowing she's playing her part well as he winces. “Funny stuff on the news,” Vernon mutters his eyes on anything but her, “Owls… shooting stars… and there were a lot of funny-looking people in town today…” Her mind runs this through as she snaps, “So?”

“Well, I just thought… maybe… it was something to do with… you know… her crowd.” Petunia’s eyes close, wanting to vehemently disagree, but she can’t. Her thoughts wondering the same thing, and hoping against hope it’s not. “Their twins – they’d be about Dudley’s age now, wouldn’t they?” Her eyes flick to him, _did he hear something too?_ “I suppose so,” she replies, trying not to think of her son as an orphan like… if they can be believed, the odd people said that those Potter twins, not her niece and nephew, now were. “What’s their names again? Howard and Carrie, isn’t it?” She answers unthinkingly, “Hadrian and Celeste.” Vernon looks away from her, but she manages to catch the horror and fear in his eyes. Her heart clenches, _he’s heard what I have, hasn’t he?_ Neither speaks another word, sipping their tea before heading to bed.

There’s a witness to the Dursleys’ inner turmoil, a gray tabby cat with square markings around her eyes. Dr. Dursley had spotted his cat earlier on his way to work and again on the way home, now sitting on their brick fence as it had since Vernon disappeared. The cat had taken great interest in the family who lived in House Number 4 on Privet Drive. Mrs. Dursley, reminded the cat, of a more worn dear friend it had recently lost. Her son, on the other hand, was a terror on legs. Fervently believing that had the mother led him, he would have pulled its tail just for some entertainment. It was obvious the father doted on him, wanting to raise a son just as horrible as him but not wanting to deal with the consequences, leaving that for the mother. The tabby cat, now that the house is dark, now kept its eyes on the far corner of Privet Drive. Some, had they been walking passed might have mistaken it for a statue before shaking their heads at the ridiculous idea that the Dursleys would buy anything creative. It stayed until midnight, unmoving, unblinking until it heard a small pop, causing the cat’s ears to flick.

A man appeared at the spot the cat had been faithfully watching. It seemed like he appeared suddenly from the ground. The cat’s eyes narrow on him, it's tail twitching as the man walks on to the street, rummaging in his pockets. This man looked like he belonged to the group that Dursleys’ were talking about. He was tall, thin, and very old, judging by the silver of his hair and beard, which were both long enough to tuck into his belt. He was wearing long robes, a purple cloak that swept the ground, and high-heeled, buckled boots. His blue eyes were light, bright, and sparkling behind half-moon spectacles and his nose was very long and crooked, as though it had been broken at least twice. This man’s name was Albus Dumbledore.

Apparently aware of the eyes on him, Albus looks at the cat still staring at him, chuckling, “I should have known.” Finding what he was looking for in the inside pocket of his cloak, a silver cigarette lighter. However, when he flicks it open and clicks it, no flame appears. Instead, the nearest street lamp goes out as does the next one when he clicks it again. Dumbledore continues to click this mysterious ‘lighter’ until the street is pitch black. With a nod, he puts it away walking toward the cat and sitting next to it on the wall.

“Fancy seeing you here, Professor McGonagall,” Dumbledore states, not looking at his companion until the end, smiling at the tabby. However, the cat was gone and in its place a rather severe-looking woman, wearing square glasses exactly the shape of the markings of the cat. She, too, wore a cloak, emerald green and had her black hair drawn into a tight bun. Despite that, she looked distinctly ruffled, “How did you know it was me?” the older man chuckles, “My dear Professor, I’ve never seen a cat sit so stiffly.” Professor McGonagall sniffs, “you’d be stiff if you’d been sitting on brick all day.” Dumbledore’s blue eyes widen, “All day? When you could have been celebrating? I must have passed a dozen feasts and parties on my way here.”

McGonagall sniffs again, angrily, “Oh, yes, everyone’s celebrating, alright. You’d think they’d be a bit more careful, but no – even the Muggles have noticed something’s going on. It was on their news,” jerking her head at the dark Dursley living room, “I heard it. Flocks of owls… shooting stars… Well, they’re not completely stupid. They were bound to notice something. Shooting stars down in Kent – I’ll bet that was Dedalus Diggle. He never had much sense.”

“You can’t blame them,” Dumbledore replies gently, his eyes flicking over the horizon, “We’ve had precious little to celebrate for eleven years.” McGonagall sighs, “I know that! But that’s no reason to lose our heads. People are being downright careless, out on the streets in broad daylight, not even dressed in Muggle clothes, swapping rumors.” She glances at the old man, “a fine thing it would be if, on the very day You-Know-Who seems to have disappeared, at last, the Muggles found out about us all. I suppose he really _has_ gone, Dumbledore?”

“It certainly seems so,” Dumbledore replies, casting a quick glance at the woman beside him, “we have much to be thankful for. Would you care for a lemon drop?” McGonagall’s eyebrows scrunch together, “A _what_?” Dumbledore chuckles, “A lemon drop. They’re a kind of Muggle sweet I’m rather fond of.” The woman casts him a pointed look, “no, thank you.” Shaking her head slightly, amazed at the man, “As I say, even if You-Know-Who _has_ gone…” Her companion interrupts her, “My dear Professor, surely a sensible person like yourself can call him by his name? All this ‘You-Know-Who’ nonsense – for eleven years I have been trying to get persuade people to call him by his proper name: _Voldemort_.” McGonagall’s flinch goes unnoticed by Dumbledore as he’s unsticking to lemon drops, continuing, “It all gets so confusing if we keep saying ‘You-Know-Who.’ I have never seen any reason to be frightened of saying Voldemort’s name.”

“I know you haven’t,” McGonagall responds, her tone a mixture of exasperation and admiration, “but you’re different. Everyone knows you’re the only on You-Know- oh, all right, _Voldemort_, was frightened of.” Dumbledore chuckles, shaking his head, “You flatter me. Voldemort had powers I will never have.” The woman snorts, “Only because you’re too – well – noble to use them.” Dumbledore’s laugh continues, “It’s lucky it’s dark. I haven’t blushed so much since Madam Pomfrey told me she liked my new earmuffs.” McGonagall shoots him a sharp look, “The owls are nothing next to the _rumors_ that are flying around. You know what everyone’s saying? About why he’s disappeared? About what finally spotted him?” she looks at him, frowning when he’s paying more attention to the lemon drops.

“What they’re _saying_,” McGonagall continues, “is that last night Voldemort turned up in Godric’s Hallow. He went to find the Potters. The rumor is that Lily and James Potter are – are – that they’re,” her eyes close, “_dead_.” Dumbledore bows his head, causing his companion to gasp in horror, “Lily and James… I can’t believe it… I didn’t want to believe it… Oh, Albus.” Dumbledore rubs her back as she tries to keep from crying, “I know… I know… I know…” McGonagall sniffs, “that’s not all. They’re saying he tried to kill the Potter’s twins, Hadrian and Celeste. But – he couldn’t. he couldn’t kill the twins”

“No one knows why, or how, but they’re saying that when he couldn’t kill Hadrian and Celeste Potter, Voldemort’s power somehow broke,” McGonagall looks to Dumbledore, “that’s why he’s gone.” The old man nods and the woman gasps, “It’s – it’s true?” she falters, “After all he’s done… all the people he’s killed… he couldn’t kill young twins? It’s just astounding.. of all the things to stop him… but how in the name of heaven did they survive.” Dumbledore looks to the sky again, “We can only guess. We may never know.” McGonagall pulls out a lace handkerchief, dabbing her eyes.

Dumbledore sniffs loudly before taking out an odd golden watch. It has twelve hands but no numbers, instead, little planets were moving around the edge. He sighs, “Hagrid’s late. I suppose it was he who told you I’d be here, by the way?” McGonagall nods, “Yes. And I don’t suppose you’re going to tell me _why_ you’re here, of all places?” The old man glances at the house, “I’ve come to bring Hadrian and Celeste to their Aunt and Uncle. They’re the only family they have left now.”

“You don’t mean – you_ can’t_ mean the people who live _here_?” McGonagall exclaims, jumping to her feet, pointing at number four, “Dumbledore – you can’t. I’ve been watching them all day. The woman is alright but the man, you couldn’t find a person who are less like us. And they’ve got this son – I saw him kicking his mother all the way the street, screaming for treats. Hadrian and Celeste Potter coming to live here!” Dumbledore shakes his head, “It’s the best place for them. Their aunt and uncle will be able to explain everything to them when they’re older. I’ve written them a letter.”

“A letter?” McGonagall repeats, rejoining the old man, “Really, Dumbledore, you think you can explain all this in a letter? These people will never understand them! They’ll be famous – legends – I wouldn’t be surprised if today was known as The Potter Twins day in the future –there will be books written about them – every child in our world will know their names!” Dumbledore nods, “Exactly. It would be enough to turn any child’s head. Famous before they can walk or talk! Famous for something they won’t even remember! Can’t you see how much better off they’ll be, growing up away from all that until they’re ready to take it?”

McGonagall opens her mouth to retort before closing it and swallowing, “Yes – yes you’re right, of course. But how are the twins getting here, Dumbledore?” eyeing him as his he’d pull them out from his cloak. “Hagrid is bringing them,” he states simply. Her eyes widen, “You think it,” she swallows, “wise – to trust Hagrid with something as important as this?” Dumbledore chuckles, “I would trust Hagrid with my life.” McGonagall eyes him, “I’m not saying his heart isn’t in the right place, but you can’t pretend he’s not careless. He does tend too…” she trails off, hearing a low rumbling sound breaking the silence around them, “what was that?”

Both Dumbledore and McGonagall look up and down the street for the source as it got louder. Finally looking into the sky when it swelled to a roar. A huge motorcycle fell out of the sky, landing on the street in front of the duo. Sitting on top of it was the most unnaturally massive man with wild black hair and a beard that hid most of his face. He cut off the engine and stood, showing just how massive he is, twice as tall as a normal man and five times as wide. Carefully cradled to his chest was a bundle of blankets. “Hagrid!” Dumbledore grins once both onlookers recovered from their shock, “At last. And where did you get the motorcycle?”

“Borrowed it, Professor Dumbledore, sir,” the giant man replies, tipping his head to McGonagall, “Young Sirus Black lent it to me. I’ve got them, sir.” McGonagall swallows, looking at the bundle of blankets, longing to hold them. “No problems, we there?” Dumbledore asks worriedly. “No, sir – house was almost completely destroyed, but I got them out all right before the Muggles started swarmin’ around. They fell asleep as we was flyin’ over Bristol.” Dumbledore and McGonagall bent forward down when Hagrid nears, peering into the bundle of blankets. Barely visible are the twins still clinging together but fast asleep. McGonagall gasps seeing the matching lightning bolt scars on their foreheads under jet black and auburn hair. “Is that where…?” McGonagall whispers horrified. “Yes,” Dumbledore nods, “They’ll have that scar forever.”

“Couldn’t you do something about it, Dumbledore?” McGonagall asks, trying to keep the tears from her eyes. “Even if I could, I wouldn’t. Scars can come in handy. I have one myself above my left knee that is a perfect map of the London Underground. Well – give them here, Hagrid – we’d better get this over with,” Dumbledore says, gingerly taking the babies from the giant. He then turns to begin the trek to the Dursley’s door. “Could I – could I say goodbye to them, sir?” Hagrid asks mournfully. Dumbledore pauses and the giant leans both with, placing a whiskery kiss on their foreheads. Then, suddenly throws his head back, letting out a howl like a wounded dog.

“Shhh!” McGonagall hisses, “you’ll make the Muggles!” Hagrid’s shoulders shake, “S-s-sorry,” he sobs, taking out a large spotted handkerchief where he buries his head, “but I c-c-can’t stand it – Lily an’ James dead – an’ poor little Harry and Cel off ter live with Muggles.” McGonagall winces, rubbing his back, “Yes, yes, it’s all very sad, but get a grip on yourself, Hagrid, of we’ll be found.” She glances at Dumbledore as he steps over the low garden wall heading to the front door. He lays the twins down, caressing their cheeks before tucking a letter he took from his cloak into the blankets around them. Sighing as he joins the other two, Hagrid’s shoulders still shaking, McGonagall blinking back tears and the twinkling light missing from Dumbledore’s eyes as they stare at the bundle.

“Well,” Dumbledore breaks the silence, “that’s that. we’ve got no business staying here. We may as well join the celebrations.” Hagrid sniffles, his voice muffled “Yeah, I’ll be takin’ Sirius his bike back. G’night, Professor McGonagall— Professor Dumbledore, sir.” With one more wipe, HAgris mounts the bike, kicks the engine to life, and with a roar both soar into the night sky. “I shall see you soon, I expect, Professor McGonagall,” Dumbledore says, his eyes softening as McGonagall blows her nose in response.

Then the odd man turns on his heel, walking to where he arrived. Once there, he pulls out the silver odd lighter, flicking it open and clicking it once, releasing twelve balls of light back to the streetlamps. His smile is sad when he sees the gray tabby cat slinking around the corner at the other end of the street. then his twinkling blue eyes flick to the bundle of blankets holding a set of remarkable siblings on the steps of number four. “Good luck, Harry and Celeste,” he whispers, before turning on his heel and with a swish of his purple cloak, he was gone.

The twins curl together tighter as a breeze ruffles the impeccable lawns of Privet Drive. Two little hands closed on the letter as they take shelter in the warmth and love of the other sleeping on, not knowing that they are special, not knowing they are famous… They couldn’t know that at this very moment, people meeting in secret all over the country are holding up their glasses and saying in hushed voices: “To Hadrian and Celeste Potter— the Twins who lived!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -~=~-~=~-~=~-~=~-~=~-~=~-  
Thanks for reading! I hope ya'll enjoy it and sorry for any mistakes. Positive feedback is greatly appreciated!


	2. The Vanishing Glass

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Underlined and italicized words are books*  
~ Happy Reading! ~

Chapter 2 | The Vanishing Glass

-~=~-~=~-~=~-

“Harry, it’s time to wake up,” cries a young girl, blowing her hair out of her face. The raven-haired boy rolls, ignoring her, wanting a few more minutes of the blissful dream. “Harry, come on. It’s Dudley’s birthday, Aunt Petunia wants us to make breakfast,” she continues shaking him. “No, I don’t wanna,” he huffs. “I know you don’t but come on,” still shaking him. She smirks when he growls slightly sitting up, knowing that she’s succeeded. “Why couldn’t you make breakfast, Cel?” narrowing his blue-green eyes at her. His sister rolls her eyes, the same blue-green as his, “Because Uncle Vernon will be in a mood today.” Harry huffs but nods, gingering getting out of the small cot-like bed. Being silent as mice, the twins enter the kitchen to start cooking. They split up the workload the way they always have, Harry, cooking the eggs and bacon while Celeste cooks the pancakes Dudley will insist on and makes Aunt Petunia’s tea and Uncle Vernon’s morning coffee.

Aunt Petunia lifts an impressed and thankful eyebrow to the twins as she enters. “What’s this?” Uncle Vernon sneers as he enters. Harry and Celeste share a look, before Harry sighs, going to get the mail and daily newspaper for Uncle Vernon. The beefy man narrows his eyes at Celeste, who swallows, “Since its Dudley’s birthday we wanted to make it special.” Vernon’s eyes narrow more, flicking to Harry as he hands him what he’s collected, “Is that true, Hadrian?” Harry bristles silently, his uncle knowing he hates being called by his first name. “Yes, sir, Uncle Vernon,” his eyes flicking to his auburn-haired twin, “Cel’s idea.”

“Well,” Uncle Vernon sneers, “You still aren’t going with us.” Celeste silently snorts,_ as if we’d want to._ She glances at Harry who deflates slightly and winces. Despite the twins living here for ten years, neither is really part of the family. There aren’t any pictures on the walls of funny moments, of school pictures. No pictures from Celeste’s recitals once her teachers realized her dance and singing skill. No sign that the twins live under this roof. Because of this, Uncle Vernon’s fear of them being seen they hardly go anywhere with the Dursleys.

“I thought you had a haircut just the other day, Hadrian.” Harry winces, nodding, “I did, sir.” Vernon’s nose wrinkles, “Doesn’t look like it. Have you even brushed it?” Celeste covers her mouth with her hand to prevent her giggle. Harry has the most untamable hair known to man. And, like Uncle Vernon said, whenever he gets a haircut, his hair never looks like it as ever cut. Celeste’s hair is just as untamable because of her curls. Then there’s the problem of the matching lightning bolt scars on their forehead. Harry’s is on the right side of his forehead above his right eye, while Celeste’s is on the left above her left eye. Harry doesn’t see a problem with them being seen, finding it cool. Celeste, on the other hand, has no problems with Aunt Petunia’s decision to keep them covered. Especially when she sees the pain that briefly crosses her eyes when she sees them before her uncaring mask falls into place.

The twins have had that scar ever since they could remember. The only thing that either of them remembers is a flash of sickly green light. That was the first question the twins remember asking when they learned to talk and recognized that both had matching scars. Aunt Petunia froze before Uncle Vernon responded, “You got it in the car crash that killed your parents. And don’t ask questions, Potters!” _Don’t ask questions_, the first rule of living with the Dursleys. They didn’t seem to have problems if it was about school, though neither Potter went to them, maybe Aunt Petunia but never Uncle Vernon. Uncle Vernon forced Celeste to ‘tutor’ Dudley as she surpassed the blond boy in all classes. The ‘tutoring’ was Dudley copying her hard work then beating up Harry. Thankfully he never tore up her work or tried to sabotage their schooling as Uncle Vernon would roar at him not to mess with the plan to get them out.

Uncle Vernon hates the young Potter twins, that much was certain. He would go out of his way to criticize either of them or if they stepped over his imaginative wall. Well, let's just say it’s a strict punishment. When Celeste made the mistake of revealing her musical talents, she got a lecture and was told no meals for nearly a week. It was Aunt Petunia who taught the twins to cook, to walk, to talk, to generally take care of themselves. As the twins grew, she became more distant. She’d help style her hair and made Dudley’s old clothes, that both twins wore, into dresses. Even made them more girly for her too if she asked. But that was it, then she treats them both the same, distantly. All in all, Aunt Petunia seemed like a shell of herself, a quiet housewife who doted on her son.

Dudley had an odd relationship with the twins. Harry was his and his friends' favorite punching bag, honestly their favorite game Harry chasing. Celeste was protected, neither he nor his friends touched her, just teased her mercilessly but if anyone else dared to, they had Dudley’s gang to deal with after. The twins believed this to be Petunia’s doing, trying to, at least, make her son a gentleman if nothing else. However, the result was the same, neither had friends except each other.

Footsteps rattle the walls, as Dudley stomps down the stairs, hoping the twins are still in their room, the small cupboard under the stairs. He’s in a mood when he enters, being denied his favorite game, though he sniffs the air like a bloodhound before his eyes land on his presents. Counting them, aloud, messing up a few times too, “36! Only 36! Last year I had 37!” Petunia’s eyes widen, fearfully looking at her husband who clicks his tongue, “Some of them are bigger this year, son.” Petunia nods, “And there’s one from Aunt Marge but it's hidden.” The birthday boy sneers, “Okay, 37!” He turns to his father, “And I don’t care how big they are!”

“When we’re out we’ll get two more,” Aunt Petunia replies, sensing a Dudley-sized tantrum, “how does that sound?” The twins share a look, both rolling their eyes out of view of the Dursleys before delivering the food, Harry to Uncle Vernon and Celeste to Dudley. Petunia nods to her, as Harry place her plate down, then the twins prepare their own joining the others at the table. Dudley counts on his fingers, before nodding, “Alright then.” Vernon smirks at him, “Little tyke wants his money’s worth, just like his father. ‘Atta boy, Dudley?” ruffling his hair.

Dudley ignores his father turning to his presents as the phone rings. Aunt Petunia sighs before going to get it, as Dudley tears into his first present. He unwraps a racing bike, a video camera, a remote-control airplane, sixteen new computer games, and a VCR. His mother returns just as he opens a gold wristwatch, looking upset and worried. “Bad news, Vernon,” she says, glancing at the twins, “Mrs. Figg’s broken her leg. She can’t take them.” Dudley’s mouth falls open, gaping in horror while Harry’s heart leaps and Cel’s clenches. Mrs. Figg was a nice older lady, who adores (an unhealthy obsession, Harry believes, for) cats. Mr. Paws, Tibbles, Snowy and Tufty are all heavily pictured. Every year, the Dursleys take Dudley and a few friends to spend the day at a place of their choosing for Dudley’s birthday.

That left the Potter twins with Mrs. Figg. Harry detested it, the house smelled of cabbage and she always wanted to look at pictures of all the cats she’s owned, having them do the same. Celeste adored her, a feeling that Mrs. Figg shared. While Harry silently cheered, feeling that he should be sorry for Mrs. Figg but was having difficulty, Celeste was crumbling. Last Christmas she was given a grey kitten, Aquila, that Mrs. Figg kept at her house. Cel helped comfort his mother, Snowy, and developed a deep bond with Aquila. A bond that Mrs. Figg refused to break, forcing Mr. Dursley to promise that Aquila could come to live at the Dursleys. He added only if Celeste was top of her class.

“Now what?” Aunt Petunia asks, her eyes solely on her husband. “We could phone Marge,” the man suggested, glowering at the twins like they made this happen. “Don’t be silly, Vernon,” Petunia states, her eyes flicking to the twins, “She hates them.” The feeling was mutual, Aunt Marge, as the twins were forced to call her, was Vernon’s sister and she was just as cruel as him. Now, she never laid a hand on them, but she never spoke kindly to or about them. “What about whats-her-name, your friend – Yvonne?” Petunia’s eyes narrow slightly, “She’s on vacation in Majorca.”

“You could just leave us here,” Harry added despite his sister’s head shaking furiously. “And come back to find the house in ruins!” exclaims Uncle Vernon, almost snarls. Harry scoffs, “We won’t blow up the house!” Both Potter’s were in fact very clean as it had been drilled inside of them. “I suppose,” Petunia begins, glancing at the twins, silencing any further words, “We could take them to the zoo.” Her eyes flick to her husband, “and leave them in the car.” Vernon shakes his head, “That car’s new, they aren’t sitting in it alone.” Dudley lets out a loud wail, entering his best talent, fake crying. Despite not being the brightest, he’d learned that if he screws up his face and wails, he’ll get anything he wants. The twins roll their eyes as Petunia nervously scurries over to her son, “Dinky Duddydums, don’t cry, Mummy won’t let them spoil your special day!”

“I… don’t… want… them… to come!” Dudley wails, his shoulders heaving with ‘sobs,’ an act he’d long perfected, “They always sp-spoil everything!” ending with a nasty grin to the twins through the arms of his mother. Nearly everyone jumps when the doorbell rings. “Oh, good Lord, they’re here!” Aunt Petunia exclaims frantically rushing out to the door. Moments later, Dudley’s best friend Piers Polkiss, walked in with his mother finishing Dudley’s act. Piers was a scrawny boy not much bigger than Harry with a face like a rat. He was usually the one who held the latest victim still as Dudley hit them.

Half an hour later, the twins were swished between Piers and Dudley in the back of the Dursley’s car heading to the zoo for the first time in their life. Both were giddy, though their minds were reviewing what Uncle Vernon told them before they’d gotten it. He’d pulled them both roughly off to the side. “I’m warning you,” he sneers, “I’m warning you now, Potters— any funny business, anything at all— and you’ll be in that cupboard from now until Christmas!” The young Potter twins share a glance, “We aren’t going to do anything, honestly…” As usual, Uncle Vernon didn’t believe them. No never did. The problem was strange things always seemed to happen around the Potter twins.

Once Uncle Vernon shaved Harry’s head, leaving the bangs to cover the ‘hideous’ scar. Dudley laughed himself silly, and Harry fearing the ridicule at school the next day, slept uneasily. When he woke up, his hair was as long as it had been before the haircut. Uncle Vernon gave him a week in the cupboard as punishment. Another time, Harry was given a revolting old sweater of Dudley’s, that the former owner kept forcing him into. The harder he tried to pull it over his head, the smaller it seemed to become, until it might have fit a house rat but not a person. Aunt Petunia, thankfully, blamed the washer on that so Harry nor his sister was punished. On the other hand, Harry had gotten in terrible trouble for being found on the roof of the school kitchens. Dudley’s gang was chasing him as usual when, much to Harry’s surprise as anyone else’s, there he was sitting on the chimney. The Dursleys had received a very angry letter from Harry’s headmistress telling them Harry had been climbing school buildings. But all he tried to do (as he told the Dursleys) was jump behind the big trash cans outside the kitchen doors. Harry supposed that the wind must have caught him in mid-jump.

For Celeste, it was more small things. Items picking themselves up to go into her open hand. As a curious young girl, when she noticed what sometimes happen, she’d experiment with it, though things did happen out of her control. Like when a mean teacher made her cry, their hair turned blue. The teacher furiously wrote home to complain, she’d gotten the belt for that. Another time, she swore that she could hear snakes actually talk. She had gotten slapped when she said she became friends with the backyard garden snakes. Then there were all the curious times, her bruises would disappear, or injuries would fix themselves. That thankfully, nobody noticed, except Aunt Petunia, the only one who knew about her punishments. She’d rub her back as her niece would sob into her lap, humming a song she vaguely remembers her mother singing. It’s the same song, she sings to Harry after he wakes up from a nightmare. Other times, something she wished for, happens. Like when a bully at school, Samantha Porkins who fancies Dudley, made fun of her name then pushed her into a puddle of mud. Celeste’s eyes narrowed as she walked away laughing, wishing she fell in mud. Just as Samantha took her next step, a puddle of mud appeared and slipped face first in mud, covering her from head to toe. That she thankfully didn’t get in trouble for.

Both Potters vow that “no funny business” would happen on this trip. Well, if they could help it. It was even worth putting up with Dudley and Piers for a day out of the house, of school, and Celeste will admit, out of Mrs. Figgs dusty living room. On the drive, Uncle Vernon complains to Aunt Petunia. It is one of his favorites, complaining about things: people at work, Hadrian and Celeste, the council, Hadrian and Celeste, the bank, and Hadrian and Celeste were just a few of his favorite topics. This morning it was motorcycles. “… roaring along like maniacs, the young hoodlums,” Uncle Vernon huffs, glaring at one as it passes. “I had a dream about a motorcycle,” Harry brought up, “It was flying.” Celeste smiles, having had the same dream, the others didn’t have the same reaction. Namely, Uncle Vernon. He nearly crashes into the car in front, then turns around, his face purple like a beet, “MOTORCYCLES DON’T FLY!” Dudley and Piers snigger as the twins share a look. “I know they don’t, Uncle,” Harry began before being interrupted by Celeste, “It was only a dream…” Harry nodding along furiously, wishing he hadn’t spoken at all. The Dursleys, namely Uncle Vernon, hated if they spoke about anything that wasn’t how things are, no matter if it was in dreams or cartoons. They seemed to think they’d get dangerous ideas.

It was a happy sunny Saturday, and the zoo was crowded with families. Uncle Vernon brought Dudley and Piers large chocolate ice creams at the entrance but before they could hurry off, the smiling lady vendor turned to Harry and Celeste asking what they would like. Before they could answer, Uncle Vernon brought them cheap lemon ice pops. Both crunch up their noses after the first lick but start enjoying it as they watch a gorilla scratching its head. It looks remarkably like Dudley, with the exception of not being blond.

The twins are enjoying themselves, the best morning they’d had in a long time. They made sure to walk a little way apart from the Dursleys, noticing that Dudley and Piers were beginning to get bored by lunchtime, not wanting them to fall back to their favorite hobby of hitting Harry. Their lunch is in the zoo restaurant, and when Dudley complains that neither his or Piers’ knickerbocker glories had enough ice cream on top, Uncle Vernon brought them both new ones, giving the old ones to the twins. It was a good day, but the twins should have known it wouldn’t last.

After lunch, they went to the reptile house. It was cool and dark in there, With lit windows all along the walls. Behind the glass, all sorts of lizards and snakes were crawling and slithering over bits of wood and stone. Dudley and Piers wanted to see huge poisonous cobras and thick man crushing pythons. Dudley quickly found the largest snake in the place. It could have wrapped its body twice around Uncle Vernon's car and crushed it into a trash can, but at the moment it didn't look in the mood. In fact, it was fast asleep.

Dudley stands with his nose pressed against the glass staring at the glistening brown coils. “Make it move,” he whines to his father. Uncle Vernon taps on the glass, but the snake doesn't budge. “Do it again,” Dudley orders. His father nods, rapping the glass smartly with his knuckles, but the snake just snoozes on. “This is boring,” Dudley moans, before shuffling away, Piers and his parents following. The twins move in front of the tank and looking intently at the snake. They wouldn't be surprised if it had died of boredom itself— no company except stupid people drumming their fingers on the glass trying to disturb it all day long. It was worse than having a cupboard as a bedroom and the only visitor Aunt Petunia hammering on the door to wake you up. At least, they got to visit the rest of the house.

The snake suddenly opened its beady eyes. Slowly, very slowly, it raises its head until its eyes are level with the Potters. It winks. The twins share a glance, wondering with the other saw it too. When both nods, they look around seeing if anyone saw. They weren’t, so they return their attention back to the snake, and winks back. The snake jerks its head towards Uncle Vernon and Dudley then raises his eyes to the ceiling, giving the twins a look that said quite plainly, ‘I get that all the time.’

“I know,” Celeste replies, with Harry adding, “It must be really annoying.” The snake nods vigorously. “Where do you come from anyway?” Cel asks, curious if this snake could understand her too. The snake jabs its tail at a little sign next to the glass. The twins peer at it, reading: Boa Constrictor Brazil. “Was it nice there?” asks Harry, glancing back at the snake, japping its tail, back at the sign. “This specimen was born in the zoo,” Cel reads aloud, as Harry closes his eyes, “I see, so you've never been to Brazil.” The snake shakes its head, a deafening shout behind Harry makes the three jump. “DUDLEY! MR. DURSLEY!” Piers yells, “COME LOOK AT THIS SNAKE! YOU WON’T BELIEVE WHAT IT’S DOING!”

Dudley comes waddling toward them as fast as he can, “Out of the way, you!” he explains, punching Harry in the ribs, causing him to tumble to the floor. Celeste makes a startled noise before rushing to her brother’s side. What came next happens so fast no one is sure how it happened. One second Piers and Dudley are leaning on the glass, hands pressed flat against it. The next, they screech in horror, the glass disappearing, both tumbling into the enclosure with the snake. The twins let out gasps of horror, watching as the great snake uncoils itself rapidly, slithering out onto the floor. People throughout the reptile house scream and running for the exits.

As the snake slides swiftly past them, the twins swear they hear a low hiss, “Brazil, here I come… Thanksss amigos.” When the snake disappears, the twin looks back at the now empty encloser. They’re eyes widening as they see both Dudley and Piers pounding against the glass on the other side. Aunt Petunia shrieks when she notices, running to the glass. The keeper of the Reptile house is in shock. “But the glass,” he kept saying, “where did the glass go.” The zoo director himself makes Aunt Petunia a cup of strong sweet tea, profusely apologizing. His eyes flicking to the shaking boys, to the ever-purpling Uncle Vernon, to the quivering Petunia, her eyes continuously glancing at her niece and nephew. The Potters are still trying to come to terms with what they had just witnessed.

Nothing truly traumatizing happened, the snake paid them no attention. But, by the time the five got to the car, Dudley was saying how it nearly bit his leg off while Piers swore it had tried to squeeze him to death, glancing at Celeste, who rolled her eyes. Worst of all, for the twins at least is that Piers was calming down enough to say, “Hadrian and Celeste were talking to it, weren’t you?” The twins winced, waiting for the explosion that never came. Well, I wouldn’t say never, just until Piers was happy and smiling and out of the house. A vein was throbbing in Uncle Vernon’s temple, his face purple, and for the first time ever, not able to speak. “Go—cupboard—stay—no meals,” is all he manages before collapsing into a chair. Aunt Petunia shoos them away before getting her husband a strong brandy.

~-=-~-=-~-=-~

There was a short rap on the door, startling the twins, whose heads hit the ceiling. There’s a feminine “Hush,” before the door opens enough for a small plate to slip in before it shuts. Aunt Petunia’s voice is a whisper, “Share. We are heading to bed.” The twins' tummies rumble, seeing what they were brought, their Aunt’s best recipe. Sharing a glance, they dig in. After they finish, they slip until the covers of their shared bed, snuggling together and falling fast asleep.

The young Potters lived with the Dursleys for ten years, and Aunt Petunia’s kindness always surprises them. No matter the punishment, or what her husband says, she makes sure they are fed. She might not be able to make them happy or keep them from getting hurt or injured, but she will make sure they live. It’s what her sister died for, it’s the only promise she could make seeing those twin faces staring at with her sister’s eyes. She never imagined the pain of not having her niece and nephew’s pictures on the walls, her sister’s. Of not celebrating their birthdays or their achievements. Not being able to brag about her sweet niece who looks like a carbon copy of her mother. Despite the letter, she’d been hoping against hope that some distant relation would come to rescue her sister’s children.

There were times when her hopes rose exponentially. Like when strangers from the odd group she noticed before her life was drastically changed, would recognize them. A tiny man in a violet top hat bowed to them once while the four were shopping. It slightly frightened her, and she rushed them home without buying anything, Vernon was furious. There was another, a wild-looking old woman dressed all in green waved merrily at them. Just the other day, a bald man in a very long purple coat had shaken the twins’ hands before walking away without a word. But no one came, Aunt Petunia was their only living family and she was failing them. It hurt her to know they knew nothing of their parents, of her sister. There were times when she wished she paid more attention to Lily and the greasy boy who adored her when they spoke of their world. Other times, like today, when she wished to tell them everything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -~=~-~=~-~=~-~=~-~=~-~=~-  
Thanks for reading! I hope ya'll enjoy it and sorry for any mistakes. Positive feedback is greatly appreciated!


	3. The Letters

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Italic are thoughts*  
*Underlined and italicized words are books*  
~ Happy Reading! ~

Chapter 3 | The Letters

-~=~-~=~-~=~-

The escape of the Brazilian boa constriction earns the Potter twins their longest-ever punishment. By the time they are allowed out of their tiny cupboard again, the summer holiday has started. The twins snorted in laughter that Dudley had already broken his new video camera, crashed his remote-controlled plane, and first time out on his racing bike, knockdown old Mrs. Figg as she crossed Privet Drive on her crutches. Both twins are thrilled that school is over, Celeste because soon her cat would be here and Harry because of the freedom it gives him. Dudley’s friends visit the house every single day. Piers, Dennis, Malcolm, and Gordon are all big and stupid, but as Dudley’s the biggest and stupidest of the lot, he’s their leader. All are quite happy to tease Celeste and join Dudley’s favorite sport, Harry Hunting. This came with its own benefits, getting outside. The twins are quite alright wandering around and thinking of the end of the holidays where there’s a tiny ray of hope. When September comes, the twins would be going off to secondary school and, for the first time, without Dudley.

Dudley and Piers are going to Uncle Vernon’s old private school, Smeltings, while the twins are heading to Stonewell. When Dudley learned, he snorted, turning to the twins with a sneer, “They stuff people’s heads down the toilet the first day at Stonewell. Want to come upstairs and practice?” The twins share a look, Celeste’s a warning while Harry’s is gleeful. “No thanks,” Harry responds, winking at his sister before glancing at his cousin, “The poor toilet has never had anything as horrible as your head down it… it might be sick.” Celeste’s closes her eyes as she groans. Harry grabs her by the hand and runs before Dudley can work out what he said. They’ve managed so far to miss his retaliation.

On the third Monday in July, Aunt Petunia took Dudley to London to buy his Smeltings uniform, leaving the Potters at Mrs. Figg’s. The older lady, Harry noted, isn’t as bad as normal. It turns out that she’d broken her leg tripping over one of her beloved cats and isn’t quite so fond of them at the moment. Celeste is thrilled to be able to spend time with her cat, Uncle Vernon has been putting it off. So, while Harry watches TV, Cel cuddles with her cat and reads a new book she’d found, it was a good day. When they got home, they found Dudley parading around the living room in his horrid new uniform. Smeltings’ boy wore maroon tailcoats, orange knickerbockers, with flat straw hats called boaters and carried knobbly sticks, used for hitting each other while teachers weren’t looking. This was supposed to be good training for later life. This was one of the only times, the twins can recall seeing Uncle Vernon smile, “This is the proudest moment in my life.” Petunia burst into tears, earning alarmed looks from the twins, “Oh, my Ickle Dudleykins, I can’t believe it's you! You look so handsome and grown-up!” Their Aunt and Uncle were so speechless they took no notice of the grey cat in Celeste’s arms or the supplies in Harry. The two snicker their way to their cupboard, trying not to break into laughter. Harry already thought he might have cracked two ribs trying not to.

~-=-~-=-~-=-~

The twins wrinkle their nose in disgust when they enter the kitchen the next morning, a horrid smell in the air. Harry follows his nose to a metal tub in the sink, and when he peeks into it, he sees it's full of gray water with what looks like dirty rags floating in it. His eyes flick to Aunt Petunia, watching her stir the odd mixture, “What’s this?” Her matching eyes flick to Harry, “Your new school uniform.” He glances at Celeste whose eyes are wide with horror before furiously shaking her head. “Oh,” he begins, turning back to the tub with a wink, “I didn’t realize it had to be so wet.” He smirks, hearing his sister’s groan at the table. Aunt Petunia rolls her eyes, “Don’t be ridiculous. I’m dyeing some of Dudley’s old things gray for you,” tossing a sad look at Celeste, who now has her head on the table. Harry winces, as Aunt Petunia looks down at Harry, “It’ll look just like everyone else’s when I’ve finished.” Harry frowns at the tub, deciding he’s said enough before sitting next to his sister, getting a slap on the back of his head. “Honestly, Harry, you are ridiculous.” Her brother smirks, “Anything for you dear sis,” tickling her, causing her to break into giggles before whispering, “We’re going to look like we’re wearing elephant skin.”

Both fall silent, sitting up straighter when Uncle Vernon and Dudley enter, wrinkling their noses as the twins did earlier. Uncle Vernon ignores the Potters, going straight to his newspaper, as usual. Dudley sneers at them before sitting down, banging his Smelting stick, his new favorite thing to carry everywhere, on the table. Just as they hear the click of the mail slot and flop of letters on the doormat. “Get the mail, Dudley,” Uncle Vernon states, not looking up from his paper. “Make Harry get it,” Dudley whines, giving Harry a nasty glare. “Get the mail, Hadrian.” Harry snorts, crossing his arms, “Make Dudley do it.”

“Poke him with your Smelting stick, Dudley,” Uncle Vernon continues, still not looking up. Harry sighs, dodging both his sister’s elbow and the Smelting stick, going to get the mail. Three things laying on the doormat: a postcard from Aunt Marge, who was vacationing on the Isle of Wight, a brown envelope that looked like a bill, and… Harry’s eyes widen, _a letter for us._ His eyes are still wide as he hears the door open and his sister’s graceful steps. “What is it, Harry?” she whispers, stopping beside him. She freezes too when her eyes land on the letter. Both twins’ hearts twangs like giant elastic bands. No one, ever, in their whole lives, has ever written to them. Who would? The young Potters have no friends, no other relatives—neither belongs to the library, though Celeste wants to, so they never got notices for late books. Yet here it is, a letter, addressed so plainly there could be no mistake:

=-~-=-~-=-~-=

Mr. H. & Ms. C. Potter

The Cupboard under the Stairs

4 Privet Drive

Little Whinging

Surrey

=-~-=-~-=-~-=

The envelope is thick and heavy, made of yellowish parchment, and the address was written in emerald-green ink. There was no stamp. Celeste reaches out, her hand trembling as she flips the letter over. Their eyes widen, seeing a purple wax seal bearing a coat of arms; a lion, an eagle, a badger, and a snake surrounding a large letter _H_.

“Hurry up, Potters!” Uncle Vernon shouts. The two jumps in surprise, their hearts pounding, “What are you two doing, checking for letter bombs?” they can hear his chuckle at his own joke. The twins share a look then Celeste takes the bill and postcard and returns to the kitchen. Harry follows hiding the letter, watching Cel hand off the rest of the mail. Then the two sit back down trying not to act suspicious before opening the yellow envelope. Uncle Vernon opens the bill, snorts in disgust and turns to the postcard. “Marge’s ill,” he states, his beady eyes raking in the words, “Ate a funny whelk…”

“Dad!” Dudley exclaims suddenly, “Dad, the twin’s got something!” Harry was on the point of unfolding their letter, which was written on the same heavy parchment as the envelope when it was jerked sharply out of his hands by Uncle Vernon. “Hey, that’s ours!” Celeste exclaims before clapping her hand over her mouth in horror as Harry tries to snatch it back. “Who’d be writing to you?” their uncle sneers, watching in glee as his niece sinks in her seat. Then he turns to the letter, shaking it open and glancing at it. The twins watch in slight fascination as his face changes colors from red to green faster than a traffic light, but it didn’t stop there. Within seconds, it’s the grayish white of old porridge.

“P-P-Petunia!” Uncle Vernon gasps. The twins share a worried look as Dudley tries to grab the letter to read it, but his father holds it high out of his reach. Aunt Petunia takes it curiously, reading the first line before looking like she’s about to faint, “Vernon! Oh my goodness—Vernon!” They stare at each other, seemingly forgetting that Harry, Celeste, and Dudley are still in the room. Dudley isn’t used to being ignored, so he gives his father a sharp tap on the head with his Smelting stick, whining, “I want to read that letter!” Harry narrows his eyes at their cousin, “We want to read it as it's ours,” sending a pointed look at the frozen Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia.

“Get out, all of you,” Uncle Vernon finally croaks, unfreezing to stuff the letter back inside the envelope. Only Celeste moves, trying to drag her brother with her, recognizing the rage in his eyes. Harry wasn’t having it, “I WANT OUR LETTER!” he roars, Cel winces. “Let _me see it!”_ Dudley demands. All jump when Uncle Vernon’s fists hit the table, “OUT!” Celeste scurries out as Uncle Vernon grabs both Dudley and Harry by the scruffs of their necks and throws them out, slamming the door behind them. There’s a scuffle between the boys over who gets to listen through the keyhole. Celeste sighs, rolling her eyes as Dudley hunkers down and she fixes Harry’s dangling glasses then they both lay flat of the floor to listen through the crack. “Vernon,” Aunt Petunia states, her voice quivering, “look at the address—how could they possibly know where they sleep? You don’t think they’re watching the house?”

“Watching—spying—might be following us,” Uncle Vernon mutters wildly. “But what should we do, Vernon? Should we write back? Tell them we don’t want—” Her husband interrupts her, the twins seeing his shiny black shoes pacing up and down the kitchen, “No. No, we’ll ignore it. If they don’t get an answer… yes, that’s best… we won’t do anything…” Aunt Petunia’s voice is small, “But...” She doesn’t finish as Vernon snaps, “I’m not having one, let alone two, in this house, Petunia! Didn’t we swear when we took them in, we’d stamp out that dangerous nonsense?!” Harry and Celeste ponder on that all day, especially when Aunt Petunia vanished into their room. When she returned, she wouldn’t look at the twins and kept snapping at Dudley for anything little thing.

~-=-~-=-~-=-~

When Uncle Vernon got home from work, he did something he’d never had before, visits the twins in their cupboard. “Where’s our letter?” Harry asks as soon as Uncle Vernon squeezes through the door, “Who’s writing us?” Celeste gives him a glare as Uncle Vernon shakes his head, “No one. It was addressed to you by mistake. I have burned it.” Harry’s eyes narrow, “It was _not_ a mistake it had our cupboard on it.” Celeste gasps as their uncle yells, “Silence!” causing a couple of spiders to fall from the ceiling onto the twins. Noticing that Celeste is shaking, Harry wraps an arm around her as Uncle Vernon takes a few deep breaths, and then forces a friendly smile on his face, that looks quite unnatural and painful. “Er—yes, Had,” he pauses, swallowing before continuing, “Harry—about this cupboard. Your aunt and I have been thinking… It’s a bit small for the two of you… even just for one of you, it’s quite small… we think it might be time if you moved into your own rooms, Dudley’s second bedroom, and the old storage room.”

“Why?” Harry asks, rubbing his sister’s back silently apologizing. “Don’t ask questions?” Uncle Vernon snaps, Celeste flinches, concerning her brother as their uncle continues, “Take this stuff upstairs, now!” Harry nods and Vernon removes himself from the tiny cupboard. The twins had outgrown it years ago truthfully and the Dursley house was plenty big. The house has five bedrooms: largest is the master suite, then the room Dudley sleeps in, the next is the guest bedroom (for Aunt Marge’s visits), and the smallest, the two rooms where Dudley kept all the things that didn’t fit in his room. Lovingly called Dudley’s second bedroom and the storage room. Both have beds, that are lumpy, but they are fully furnished bedrooms. _But still_, Harry reasons, stretching out as he steps out of their now old room, _it’s better than the cupboard. _Then he helps his sister carry their limited belongings into their new rooms. There’s no fighting choosing where to go, Celeste has the one near the bathroom and Marge while Harry gets the one near Dudley.

It takes the twins one trip to carry their things to the rooms, one trip. Both sit down on their beds, feeling odd without the other as they take in their rooms. In Harry’s everything is broken, the cabinet to keep his things, the bedside table, the desk tucked into the corner. He squints at the light, _probably the lamps too._ And that’s not even including all the stuff in here. The month-old video camera is laying on top of a small working tank Dudley had once driven over the next-door neighbor’s dog. In the corner on the desk, Dudley’s first tv, which as a big hole through it when he kicked it because his favorite program was canceled. There was a large birdcage, which held a parrot that Dudley swapped at school for a real air rifle, which is upon a shelf with the end-all bent because Dudley sat on it. Other shelves were full of books, the only thing that didn’t look touched. Harry snorts _until Cel sees them._ He chuckles to himself before entering her room.

Celeste's room is just as much of a disaster. Having more things from previous Dudley birthdays that the twins had forgotten about. Harry clicks his tongue before joining his sister on her new bed. She immediately rests her head on his shoulder as they hear Dudley’s voice carrying from downstairs, whining and sounding in near tears, actual ones, “I don’t _want_ them in there… I _need_ those rooms… Make them get out…” Harry sighs, before getting up, helping his sister under the covers, kissing her forehead where his scar would be, then flicking off the light and returning to his own room. He sighs again as he stretches out on his new bed. Yesterday he’d given anything to be up here, or for his sister to be. Today, he’d rather be in the cupboard with that letter, than up here without it. In the other room, his sister agrees.

~-=-~-=-~-=-~

The next morning breakfast is silent. Aunt Petunia is still avoiding eye contact and Dudley is in shock. He’d screamed, whacked his father with his Smelting stick, been sick on purpose, kicked his mother (which he got whacked for), and thrown his tortoise through the greenhouse roof… and he still doesn’t have his rooms back. The twins are thinking about this time yesterday, bitterly wishing they opened it in the hall. And Uncle Vernon gives everyone, except his wife, dark looks.

Uncle Vernon, apparently trying to be nicer to the twins, turns to Dudley, “Go get the mail, Dudley.” His son narrows his eyes, before huffing and tottering off to get it banging his Smeltings stick on the walls as he went. With each sound, Petunia jump and winced, earning a concerned glance from her niece. “There’s another one!” Dudley yells from the hall gleefully, _at least he’d get to see what this is about_. “Mr. H & Ms. C. Potter, The Smallest Bedrooms, 4 Privet Drive—” Uncle Vernon makes a strangled cry before hurrying down the hall with Harry behind him. Celeste is still giving her aunt a concerned look as she flinches with Vernon’s cry. There’s another scuffle in the hall with the men of the house, which the girl ignores walking to her aunt’s side. “Aunt Petunia, are you alright?” she asks softly. Both women jump when they hear Uncle Vernon yell, “Go to your cupboard! I mean your rooms both of you now go!”

The young girl stays put as her uncle walks in, his face purple and vein throbbing at his temple. His beady eyes narrow at her, pointing at the door, “Out!” Celeste nods, before unthinkingly kissing her aunt’s cheek and leaving the room. she isn’t fast enough as something, she’s afraid to look, hit’s her on the back. “Your Room, Girl. Now!” She trembles, running full speed up the stairs and into Harry’s room. “Why didn’t you help?” Harry asks, his arms crossed, his eyes narrowed, “We could have gotten it together!” Cel swallows, “Something was wrong with Aunt Petunia.” His eyes widen, _I__ hadn’t noticed. Not really at least. Too focused on the letter._ He nods, deflating, “They knew we didn’t get the first, Cel, somehow they knew.”

“Do you think they’ll try again?” Celeste asks thoughtfully. “Well, if they do, we’ll make sure they succeed.” Harry looks up at her, “Right?” Her face screws up for a moment, and Harry’s heart falls. _She won’t do it. What am I thinking…?_ “Right!” His eyes open and widen, “Really?!” Celeste smiles, “Of course. I’m just as curious as you, Harry.” She turns and sees the books; her jaw falls open before she begs her brother to move them into her room. He chuckles, nodding and silently the twins’ plan.

~-=-~-=-~-=-~

“Harry,” Celeste whispers, lightly shaking him, “It’s time.” Harry sits up quickly, and together the twins sneak down the stairs, quiet as mice. It’s a sound plan, sneak down the stairs, meet the mailman at the corner, get and read the letter then come back. Easy, fast and simple. Unfortunately, this isn’t how it goes. How it goes is something like this. Harry and Celeste reach the entry hall, giving each other victorious grins then just as they reach the door. Harry steps on the doormat and the doormat yell in pain, both squeals in fright, and the lights turn on upstairs. To the twins’ horror, Harry had stepped on Uncle Vernon’s face, as he was sleeping in a sleeping bag, trying to prevent just this. The twins got a lecture for half an hour before being sent to make tea. By the time they’d finished, the mail had arrived, falling right into their furious uncle’s lap. The twins gaped as they saw not one, but three letters addressed to Mr. H. & Ms. C. Potter in green ink. It turned to horror as they watch Vernon rip them to shreds.

Uncle Vernon stays home from work to the twins’ dismay, to nail up the mail slot. It seems like even Aunt Petunia has a problem with this, hovering behind him as he works. “See,” he explains, his mouth full of nails, “If they can’t _deliver_ them, they’ll just give up.” Petunia shakes her head, “I’m not sure that’ll work, Vernon.” Her husband shakes his head, “Oh, these people’s minds work in strange ways, Petunia, they’re not like you and me,” trying to knock in a nail with the piece of fruitcake Aunt Petunia had just brought. The twins watch bitterly, before moving all the books in Harry’s room to Celeste’s, Aquila following behind them. The tip of his tail flicking, as his green eyes narrow at the man downstairs.

~-=-~-=-~-=-~

Turns out that Uncle Vernon knew nothing about the mysterious people sending letters to Harry and Celeste. As on Friday morning, no less than twelve letters came. They were pushed under the door, slotted on the side, and a few even came though the downstairs bathroom. Not that all these locations helped the twins to actually receive them as Uncle Vernon locked them in their rooms until he was sure he gathered them all. Uncle Vernon stayed home again, having the twins watch as one by one he threw the letters into the fire. They watched in grief as their letter curled and their names burned. Then he nails up the windows in the bathroom and the twins’ rooms and boards up the crack around the front and back door so no one can leave, humming ’Tiptoe Through the Tulips,’ jumping at small noises. The twins shake their heads and begin straightening and organizing their rooms.

~-=-~-=-~-=-~

Saturday morning things start to get a bit crazy. The twins are about to give up hope when Aunt Petunia shrieks while making breakfast. “What is it dear?” Uncle Vernon asks, moving to his wife’s side. “I told you it wouldn’t work, Vernon,” Petunia whispers as her husband grabs the cartoon of eggs opening them all. _Twenty-four letters, _he counted each one rolled up and hidden in the two dozen new eggs. Vernon tried hard not to think about how these people could have gotten them in their eggs. Aunt Petunia had just gotten them this morning, from their confused milkman through the living room window. _Ha_, he snaps, _that’s who_. He totters out of the kitchen, telling Aunt Petunia to shred the letters in the food processor. The twins’ shoulders slump, as her eyes flick to them before doing as Vernon asked. They can hear Uncle Vernon furiously yelling into the phone as he calls the post office and dairy, trying to find someone to blame and complain too. “Who on earth wants to talk to _you_ this badly?” Dudley asks the twins in amazement. The twins share a glance, _if only we knew._

~-=-~-=-~-=-~

The twins’ glance at each other as Uncle Vernon enters, humming happily. He grins and winks at them when he sits down, “Good morning!” Dudley frowns at him and he continues, “Fine day, Sunday. In my opinion, the best day of the week. Now, why is that, Dudley?” His son frowns, his head tilting. “There’s no post on Sundays,” Celeste answers, sharing a sad glance with her brother. Vernon claps, “Absolutely right, Celeste. No damn letters today,” Aunt Petunia gasps at his language but her husband continues, “No sir, not one single bloody letter. Not one.” The Potters shake their heads before something outside catches their attention outside. Together they get up, peering out the window seeing dozens of owls everywhere. Just as Celeste opens her mouth to tell the family, something wheezes out of the chimney hitting their uncle in the face. Harry and Cel watch it fall into his lap, a yellow envelope with green ink. They nearly cheer as another flies out, then the next second thirty of forty more zooms out. There’s instant panic as Dudley screams, climbing on his mother’s lap in fear. Harry though leaps trying to catch one as his sister rolls her eyes at him. _Honestly, Harry! Just get a letter from the floor!_

It doesn’t matter because Uncle Vernon leaps into action, the fastest the twins have ever seen him move, yelling, “Out! OUT!” before grabbing Harry by the waist and throws him into the hall, Celeste hot on their heels, yelling, “Leave him alone!” Aunt Petunia runs out behind Dudley, both covering their faces with their arms. Vernon shuts the door behind them, the letters still coming, now bouncing off the walls. There’s almost steam coming from Uncle Vernon’s ears as he stops Harry from lunging back into the room. There’s a loud sound as the nails keeping the mailslot pop off and more letters come streaming out. “That’s it!” Uncle Vernon exclaims through the letters hitting his face, still holding Harry, “I want you all back here in five minutes ready to leave. We’re going away, just pack some clothes. No arguments.” He looked so dangerous with half his mustache missing, that no one dared argue.

Ten minutes later. Aquila is dropped off at Mrs. Figg’s. Petunia apologizing for the late notice but they have a family emergency then they are off. Everyone is silent and tense, the twins wistful while Dudley is in shock. His father had hit him for slowing them down as he had tried to pack his TV, VCR, and computer in his sports bag. Uncle Vernon looks like a crazed maniac as he drives, mumbling to himself and sometimes driving in a circle before going a different direction like he thinks someone is following. They don’t stop to eat or drink all day. By nightfall, Dudley is howling. He’d never had such a bad day in his life. He's hungry, he’d missed five tv programs he wanted to see, and he’d never gone so long without blowing up an alien on his computer. At last, the drive stops as Uncle Vernon parks off the road having them sleep in the car.

The Potters wake to the sounds of tearing, rubbing their eyes, and for Harry putting on his glasses, they see Uncle Vernon outside the car tearing up six more letters. He burns them for good measure before they eat stale cornflakes and cold canned tomatoes on toast then they’re off again. “Wouldn’t it be better just to go home, dear?” Aunt Petunia asks timidly, her eyes on the forlorn children in the back. Either Uncle Vernon ignores or doesn’t hear her, continuing on. Where exactly they were going no one knew, probably not even Uncle Vernon. Again they drove all day, stopping again at nightfall. This time thankfully at a gloomy-looking hotel on the outskirt of a big city. Dudley and the twins share a room with twin beds and damp musty sheets. As their cousin snores, the twins gazed longingly down at the lights of passing cars and wondering.

Their breakfast this morning was just as disgusting as the day before, but the children knew better than to complain and ate in silence. Once they were finished, Harry and Celeste carrying the plates to the kitchen workers the hotel owner came in, clearing her throat, “’Suse me, but are any of you, Mr. H. & Ms. C. Potter? Only I got about an ‘undred of these at the front desk.” The twins froze, spinning around, seeing her holding up a letter so they could read the green ink address:

=-~-=-~-=-~-=

Mr. H. & Ms. C. Potter

Room 17

Railview Hotel

Cokeworth

=-~-=-~-=-~-=

Before Harry could take a step, Uncle Vernon grabbed it, “I’ll take them,” then following the lady out of the dining hall, pointedly looking at the Potters. Harry huffs before rejoining his sister.

~-=-~-=-~-=-~

“Daddy’s gone mad, hasn’t he?” Dudley asks his mother, watching his father sporadically look around. After Uncle Vernon returned from ‘collecting’ the Potters’ letters, he ushered them into the car. There were almost unison sighs of relief thinking they were heading home but no they weren’t. Instead, Uncle Vernon made them collectively worry about his mental wellbeing as he drove them to the middle of a forest, got out, looked around, shook his head, got back into the car and off they went again. He had in fact done this multiple times, in a plowed field, halfway across a suspension bridge, and now, on the top of a multilevel parking garage. Aunt Petunia opens her mouth to speak before shutting it as her husband gets in and starts the car. They stop again at the coast, by this time everyone is so disoriented they haven’t a clue where, when Uncle Vernon got out. Then he locks them all inside in the car and disappears.

It's dark and miserable, they’ve been watching dark clouds gather in the distance. Which are now over their heads and pouring down rain. Petunia and the Potters still try to look out the window for Uncle Vernon as Dudley wails, “It’s Tuesday! The Great Humberto’s on tonight, I want to stay somewhere with a _tv_.” Tuesday, the twins share a look. If it _was_ Tuesday—and you could usually count on Dudley to know the days of the week, because of tv—then tomorrow, Wednesday, is the Potters’ eleventh birthday. Their birthdays were never what one could consider fun or special. The twins tried to at least make something for each other and then whatever the Dursleys had given them. Last year it was a coathanger and a pair of Uncle Vernon’s old socks for Harry. For Celeste, she also got a coathanger and an old dress of Aunt Petunia’s for special occasions, or whenever Dudley’s old clothes weren’t acceptable like her recitals. Still, though, the twins couldn’t shake off that nervous excitement.

When Uncle Vernon came back, he was smiling and carrying a long thin package. He didn’t respond to his wife when she asks what he bought. Instead, he claps, “Found the perfect place! Come on! Everyone out!” The temperature dropped with the rain, so it was cold and wet. Once everyone is out, shaking because of the chill, Uncle Vernon gleefully points to what looks like a large rock way out at sea. Perched on top, is a rickety old shack. One thing is certain, there is no tv in there. “Storm forecast for tonight!” he continues, sounding even happier, “And this gentleman’s kindly agreed to lend us his boat!”

A toothless old man waves at them before pointing with a rather wicked grin at an old rowboat bobbing in the iron-gray water below them. “I’ve already got us some rations,” Uncle Vernon continues, bobbing his head to the old man, “so all aboard!” If they were miserable inside the car, then out it the rain, it's nothing compared to being in the boat. Dudley is green, getting greener with every rock of the boat, the twins trying to stay as far away as possible without tipping the boat. Then there’s the icy sea spray and the rain that creeps down their necks as the frigid wind whips their faces. Everyone would be lucky not to get sick. After what seemed like hours, they reach the rock, where Uncle Vernon, slipping and sliding, led the way to the broken-down house.

There’s a collective groan by Aunt Petunia and the children as they step inside. It smells of seaweed, and the walls do nothing to keep out the wind as it whistles through. There's a fireplace but it's damp and empty, and there are only two rooms. The rations are a bag of chips and a banana for each. Uncle Vernon tries to make a fire but the empty chip bags just smoke and shrivel up. He smirks at the twins, “Could do with some of those letters now, eh?” winking at the end. _At least he’s in a good mood_, Harry thinks bitterly, moving next to his sister to share warmth. Both know why, nobody stood a chance of reaching them here in a storm to deliver mail. They both agreed, both still hoped, hoped that whoever it was wouldn’t give up. It was nice to know that someone out there cared enough to continue, that someone somewhere knew about them.

When night falls, the promised storm blows up around them. Spray from the crashing waves coated the walls as the wind began rattling the windows. Aunt Petunia sighs, thankful to find blankets in the second room, enough to make Dudley a bed which he’d demand and two for the twins to share. She winces at that as she turns the couch into a bed for her grumbling son, then hands the twins the two blankets with a sad smile. The young Potters take them from her, whispering their thanks before searching for the softest bit of floor, curling up together for added warmth both blankets covering them. Her eyes close in pain as she walks back to the second room where she and Vernon will be sleeping on the lumpy bed. _What a way to spend the night before your birthday._ Silently she vows to try to convince her husband to go back home tomorrow so her niece and nephew can have a better birthday than this. Mrs. Dursley also wishes that their birthday wishes come true. _I’m so sorry, Lily. I’m still failing._

The young Potter twins whisper between themselves, unable to fall asleep. Whether it be because Dudley snores are almost as loud as the storm, that their tummies are rumbling in hunger, or the ground is too hard and it's too cold. The last is the most probable as they are staring with rapt attention to the lighted dial of their cousin’s watch, telling them they’ll be eleven in ten minutes. Celeste’s eyes tear away first, beginning to doodle on the dirt floor. Harry continues looking at the watch, almost staring unblinkingly, watching their birthday draw nearer.

“Five minutes to go,” Harry whispers, glancing at his sister seeing she drawn a cake. Both share a worried look when they hear something creak outside. “You don’t think the roof will fall in, do you?” Cel whispers, just loud enough for her brother to hear. He shrugs, “I hope not though it might be warmer.” Celeste’s eyes narrow though they shine with silent laughter.

Four minutes… “Do you think the house fill be full of letters when we get home?” Harry continues. His sister’s eyes shine in mirth, “Might make it easy to get one.” Her brother sniggers, both stop eyes widening fearfully as they hear another sound. “Please tell me that was the sea slapping the rocks?” Celeste murmurs, her brother wraps an arm around her.

Two minutes to go… they hear a crunching noise, Cel whimpers and Harry holds her tighter. Both thinking, _Was that the rock crumbling into the sea?_ “One minute,” Harry sees and he leans close to his sister’s ear, “Should we wake Dudley up, just to annoy him?” Cel rolls her eyes, but they're grateful. Both turn to the drawn cake whispering, “Four, three, two, one...” They share a look, whispering “Happy Birthday. Make a wish,” then blowing out the ‘candles.’ BOOM! The twins jerk upright, staring at the door in horror as the shack rattles. Someone is outside, knocking to come in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -~=~-~=~-~=~-~=~-~=~-~=~-  
Thanks for reading! I hope ya'll enjoy it and sorry for any mistakes. Positive feedback is greatly appreciated!


	4. The Truth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Italic are thoughts*  
*Underlined and italicized words are books*  
~ Happy Reading! ~

Chapter 4 | The Truth

-~=~-~=~-~=~-

BOOM! They knock again, jerking Dudley wake, “Where’s the cannon?” There’s a crash behind them, and Uncle Vernon skids into the room, holding a rifle in his hands… The Potters share a look, so that’s what was in the long, thin package he bought. “Who’s there?” he shouts, “I warn you—I armed!” There was a pause, then… SMASH! The door was hit with such force that is swung clean off its hinges and with a deafening crash landed flat on the floor.

A giant of a man stood in the doorway. His face nearly completely hidden by a long shaggy mane of hair and a wild, tangled beard. You could only make out his eyes, glinting like black beetles under all the hair. He squeezes his way into the hut, stooping so that his head just brushes the ceiling. Then he bends down, picking up the door and easily fits in back into its frame. Now the storm outside seems calmer, or the noise of it dropped. The giant man turned to look at them, his eyes lingering on the twins a bit longer before flicking to the Dursleys, “Couldn’t make us a cup o’ tea, could yeh? It not been an easy journey,” then to moves to the couch where Dudley sits frozen in place, “Budge up, yeh great lump.”

Dudley squeaks, running to cower behind his mother, who had her hand resting on her heart standing behind a furious Uncle Vernon. “An’ here’s the twins!” the stranger exclaims. Their eyes widen, looking into his fierce, wild, shadowy face seeing his eyes are crinkled in a smile, “Las’ time I saw you, you were only babies. Now, look at yeh, lookin’ like your parents you are, both havin’ yer mom’s eyes.” The Potters share a glance as Uncle Vernon makes a rasping noise, barking, “I demand that you leave at once, sir! You are breaking and entering!” The giant man huffs, “Ah, shut up, Dursley, yeh great prune,” reaching over the back of the sofa, jerking the gun out of Uncle Vernon’s hands, bending it into a knot as easily as if it was made of rubber, then throwing it into the corner of the room. Vernon makes a noise like a mouse being trodden on.

“Anyway,” the stranger continues, turning his back to the Dursleys, returning to the Potter twins, “Hadrian & Celeste a very happy birthday to yeh. Got summat fer yeh here… I mighta sat on it at some point, but it’ll taste all right.” Then from an inside pocket of his black overcoat, he pulls a slightly squashed box, handing it to the twins. Harry takes it gingerly and his sister opens it with trembling fingers, both gasp. Inside is a large sticky chocolate cake with _Happy Birthday Hadrian and Celeste_ in green icing.

“Thank you,” Celeste states, looking at the giant in slight awe. “Who…” Harry’s cut off by his sister elbowing him. He gives her a glare, swallowing then she narrows her eyes at him, “Sorry, thank you. But who are you?” The giant’s gaze flicks between them as he chuckles, _so much like their parents._ “True, I haven’t introduced meself. Rubeus Hagrid, Keeper of Keys and Grounds at Hogwarts,” holding out an enormous hand which each Potter takes. He shakes their hands, really their whole arms, then continues, “What about that tea then, eh?” rubbing his hand together, “I’d not say no ter summat stronger if yeh’ve got it, mind.” Then he glances at the fireplace and their sad attempts at starting one and shorts. He bends down blocking the fireplace so one could see what he was doing but a second later, there was a roaring fire there, filling the whole damp hut with flickering light and warmth. The twins sigh in relief as the warmth washes over them.

Rubeus Hagrid sits back down on the sofa, which sags under his weight, and begins taking all sorts of things out of the pockets of this coat: a copper kettle, a squashy package of sausages, a poker, tea, several chipped mugs, and a bottle of some amber liquid that he takes a swig of before starting to make tea. Soon the hut was full of the sound and smell of sizzling sausages. Nobody said a thing while the giant was working, but as he slides the first six fat juicy, slightly burnt sausages from the poker. Dudley fidgeted a little. “Don’t touch anything he gives you, Dudley,” Uncle Vernon states coldly, his eyes never leaving the giant man who chuckles darkly, “Yer great puddin’ of a son don’ need fattenin’ anymore, Dursley, don’ worry,” then he hands the twins three sausages each. Celeste whispers her thanks before both start eating, thinking they’ve never had something so wonderful.

Harry couldn’t take his eyes off the giant as he ate. As nobody seemed to want to ask, Celeste, being too polite, Harry cleared his throat, “I’m sorry, but we still don’t really know who you are.” His sister’s eyes widen, “Harry!” The giant takes a gulp of tea, wiping his mouth with the back of this hand, laughing slightly, “Call me Hagrid, everyone does. An’ like I told yer, I’m the keeper of Keys at Hogwarts,” he glances at them, “Yeh’ll know all about Hogwart, o’ course.” The Potters shake their heads. “No,” Cel replies, Hagrid looks shocks so she adds, “Sorry.”

“_Sorry_?” Hagrid barks, turning to stare at the Dursleys, who shrink back into the shadows, “It’s them as should be sorry! I knew yeh weren’t getting’ yer letters but I never thought yeh wouldn’t even know abou’ Hogwarts, fer cryin’ out loud! Did yeh never wonder where yer parents learned it all?” Celeste perks up, “All what?” Hagrid stares at her before roars, “ALL WHAT? Now, wait jus’ one second!” leaping to his feet. In his anger, he seems to fill the whole hut. The Dursleys are now cowering against the wall. “Do you mean ter tell me that these twins… These twins! Knows nothin’ abou’… about ANYTHING?!”

Harry sees Celeste flinch, her eyes downcast. _This is going too far,_ he thought. _My marks are bad and Cel is… Cel is brilliant._ “We know things!” Harry glowers, his arms crossed, “Celeste is the best in our year!” Hagrid smiles slightly at that but waves his words away, “About _our_ world, I mean. _Your_ world. _My_ world. _Yer parents’ world._” Cel’s eyes flick up, flickering with curiosity, “What world?” The giant looked like he was going to explode, “DURSLEY!” The twins' eyes flick to their uncle, who’d become worryingly pale, whispering something that sounded like “Mimblewimble.” Their eyes flick back to Hagrid, who’s looking at them wildly, “But yeh must know about yer mom and dad.” He clears his throat, “I mean, they’re _famous_. You’re_ famous_.”

The Potters glance at each other, nearly saying as one, “What? Our… our mom and dad weren’t famous, were they?” flicking to look at a shaking Aunt Petunia. “Yeh, don’ know… yeh don’ know…” Hagrid mumbles, running his finger through his hair, staring bewilderedly at the Potters, “Yeh don’ know what yeh _are_?” Uncle Vernon found his voice, “Stop! Stop right there, sir! I forbid you to tell the twins anything!” A braver man than Vernon Dursley would have quailed under the furious look Hagrid gives him, and when he spoke his every syllable trembled with rage. “You never told them? Never told them what was in the letter Dumbledore left fer them? I was there! I saw Dumbledore leave it, Dursley! An’ you’ve kept it from them all these years?”

“Kept _what_ from us?” Harry asks eagerly. Celeste’s eyes on her pale aunt as her uncle yells, “STOP! I FORBID YOU!” Petunia gasps in horror, her eyes closing, opening with a sad look at her niece and nephew. “Ah, go boil yer head, Dursley,” Hagrid growls before turning to the twins, “Harry, Celeste—yer a witch and wizard.” Silence fills the hut, only sound the wave crashing into the rock and the whistling wind. “We’re _what_?” Cel asks, recovering first.

“A witch and wizard, o’ course,” Hagrid replies, internally laughing at the faces of the twins as he sits back down on the sofa, which groans sinking even lower, “an’ a thumpin’ good’un, I’d say, once yeh’ve been trained up a bit. With a mum an’ dad like yours, what else would yeh be? An’ I reckon it’s abou’ time yeh read yer letter.” He pulls out a yellowish envelope, placing it in Harry’s eagerly awaiting hand, addressed in emerald green ink to Mr. H. & Ms. C. Potter, The Floor, Hut-on-the-Rock, The Sea. Celeste moves to his side as he pulls out the letter, reading together:

=-~-=-~-=-~-=

HOGWARTS SCHOOL

Of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY

~-~-~-~-~-~

Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore

(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)

Dear Mister & Miss Potter,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.

Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31.

Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall

_Deputy Headmistress_

=-~-=-~-=-~-=

Questions explode inside the twins head like fireworks, neither can decide which one to ask first. After a few moments, Harry stammers, “What does it mean, they await our owl?”

“Gallopin’ Gargons, that reminds me,” Hagrid exclaims, clapping a hand to his forehead with enough force to knock over a cart-horse and from another pocket inside his overcoat he pulled out an owl (a real, live, rather ruffled-looking owl), a long quill, and a roll of parchment. Then with his tongue between his teeth, he scribbled a note that the Potters could read upside down:

=-~-=-~-=-~-=

Dear Professor Dumbledore,

Given the Potters their letter.

Taking them to buy their things tomorrow.

Weather’s horrible. Hope you’re well,

Hagrid

=-~-=-~-=-~-=

When he was done, he rolls up the note, gives it to the owl, which clamps it in its beak, goes to the door, and throws the owl out into the storm. Then comes back and sats down as though this is as normal as talking on the phone.

The twins gape at each other, realizing their mouths are open they quickly close them, staring at the odd man. “Where was I?” Hagrid begins, only to be interrupted by an ashen-faced, furious Uncle Vernon, “They aren’t going.” The giant grunts, “I’d like ter see a great Muggle like you stop them.” Celeste notices her aunt wince as Harry asks, “A what?” Hagrid turns to him with a chuckle, “A muggle. It’s what we call nonmagic folk like him. An’ it’s your bad luck you grew up in a family o’ the biggest Muggles I ever laid eyes on.”

“We swore when we took them in we’d put a stop to that rubbish! Swore we’d stamp it out of them! Wizard and Witch indeed!” Vernon exclaims, a vein throbbing in his temple. “You _knew?!”_ Harry shouts, “You _knew_ we were—were magical?!” Aunt Petunia stands up, “Knew! _Knew!_ Of course, we knew! How could you not be, my perfect sister, being what she was? Oh, she got a letter just like that and disappeared off to that—that _school_—and came home every vacation with her pockets full of frog spawn, turning teacups into rats. I saw her as a freak! My parents were so proud to have a witch in the family!”

“Then she met that Potter at school,” Petunia continues, after taking several deep breaths, “and they left and got married and had you, and of course you’d inherit their gifts! Their talents! The talents that got them both killed! That left you orphaned!” Everyone seems taken aback by the ferocity the petite woman holds. Harry’s response is anger, “You told us they died in a car crash!” Harry nearly yells. Petunia looks away, a single tear rolling down her cheek. Hagrid notices, seeing something that as him growling, roars, “A CAR CRASH! How could a car crash kill Lillian an’ James Potter? It’s an outrage! A scandal! Hadrian an’ Celeste Potter not knowin’ their own story when every kid in our world knows their names!”

Aunt Petunia’s anger returns, marching furiously over to Hagrid, “Yes. How to tell children that they are unique and special… That there’s another world that they belong to that… that killed their parents! That killed my sister! That see half their family as worthless because they are Muggles because they're not unique and special! And you wonder why I don’t want them to go!” Hagrid swallows, not expecting that response. But she continues, “And what if the monster that…” she takes a shuddering breath, “that orphaned them comes back, hmm? Is just waiting for them to return?!” she stops, seeing Hagrid’s look of horror. “But,” Petunia growls, “please tell me how I tell children that! Tell them that the bogyman, the man that haunts their dreams, is real! Children that I promised to keep safe!” Harry gapes at his aunt, surprised and taken back. He ever knew she cared…

“You can tell us now…” the voice speaking is small in the aftermath of Petunia’s and Hagrid’s anger. Their aunt closes her eyes, "I don’t know everything, that’s another reason. I am,” she lets out a short dark chuckle, “just a stupid Muggle.” Hagrid swallows, his eyes following Petunia as she moves to the window. Oddly both Potters feel the need to comfort her but the resist as Uncle Vernon walks over to her. Their eyes flick back to Hagrid as he begins, “I never expected this… I had no idea when Dumbledore told me there might be trouble gettin’ hold of yeh, how much you didn’t know. I don’t know if I’m the right person ter tell yeh … but someone’s gotta… yeh can’t go off ter Hogwart not knowin’.” Hagrid throws the Dursleys a dirty look, “But your Aunt’s right, she probably doesn’t know everythin’. Mind, I can’t tell yeh everythin’ either but I know more than her. It’s a great myst’ry, parts of it…” They watch eagerly as Hagrid sits down and stares into the fire, the begins, “It begins, I suppose, with… with a person called… it’s incredible yeh don’t know his name, everyone in our world knows—"

“Who?” Harry asks impatiently. “Well,” Hagrid swallows, “I don’ like sayin’ the name if I can help it. No one does.” Harry frowns, “Why not?” His sister tsks, “It’s because people are still scared, aren’t they?” The giant man nods, “Yes. Blimey, this is difficult. See, there was this wizard who went… bad. As bad as you could go. Worse. Worse than worse. His name was…” Hagrid gulps, but no words come out. “Could you write it down?” Cel suggests helpfully. The man shakes his head, “Nah can’t spell it. All right—_Voldemort,”_ he shudders, “Don’ make me say it again. Anyway, this—this wizard about twenty years ago now, started lookin’ fer followers. Got ‘em, too—some were afraid, some just wanted a bit o’ his power, ‘cause he was getting’ himself power, all right. Dark days, Potters. Didn’t know who ter trust, didn’t dare get friendly with strange wizards or witches… terrible things happened. He was taking over. ‘Course some stood up to him—an’ he killed ‘em. Horribly. One o’ the only safe places left was Hogwarts, Reckon Dumbledore’s the only one You-Know-Who was afraid of. Didn’t dare try takin’ the school, not jus’ then, anyway.”

“Now, yer mum an’ dad were as good a witch an’ wizard as I ever knew. Head girl & best Quidditch Captain at Hogwarts in their day! Suppose the myst’ry is why You-Know-Who never tried to get ‘em on his side before… probably knew they were too close ter Dumbledore ter want anythin’ ter do with the Dark Side. Maybe he thought he could persuade ‘em… maybe he just want ‘em outta the way. All anyone knows is, he turned up in the village where you was all living, on Halloween ten years ago. You were just little-year-olds. He came ter house an’… an’…” Hagrid pauses, bringing out a very dirty spotted handkerchief and blew his nose, sounding like a foghorn. “Sorry, but it’s that sad… knew yer mum an’ dad, an’ nicer people yeh couldn’t find… anyway… You-Know-Who killed ‘em. An’ then.. an’ this is the real myst’ry of the thing… he tried to kill you, too.” Something clatters to the floor, the trio of magicals turn, seeing that Aunt Petunia is on the floor. Their eyes tightly close, hearing her held back sobs. Hagrid continues nonetheless, “wanted ter make a clean job of it, I suppose, or maybe he just liked killin’ by then. But he couldn’t do it. Never wondered how you got those marks on yer foreheads? Those are no ordinary cuts. That’s what yeh get when a powerful, evil curse touches yeh—took care of yer mum an’ dad an’ yer house, even—but it didn’t work on you, an’ that’s why yer famous, Potters. No one ever lived after he decided ter kill ‘em, no one except the two of you, an’ he’d killed some o’ the best witches an’ wizards of the age—the McKinnons, the Bones, the Prewetts—an’ you was only babies, an’ you lived.”

The Potters’ eyes close as something very painful goes on in their heads. As Hagrid’s story comes to a close, both see the blinding flash of sickly green light, more clearly than ever before, and something else too that neither had ever heard: a high, cold, cruel laugh. _It’s no wonder that Aunt Petunia didn’t want to tell us when we were young,_ both thought, tears gathering in their eyes. Truth be told, Harry wished they didn’t know, or… he glances at his crying sister, _at least her._ Harry looks back at Hagrid, who’s watching the twins sadly, “Took yeh from the ruined house myself, on Dumbledore’s orders. Brought yeh ter yer aunt’s…” He’s interrupted by Uncle Vernon, “Load of old tosh!” The twins jump, forgetting that there were others besides the three and their aunt.

Their uncle seems to have regained his courage as he’s glaring at Hagrid, his fists clenched, “Now, you listen here, Potters, I accept there’s something strange about you, probably nothing a good beating wouldn’t have cured—and as for all this about your parents, well, they were weirdos, no denying it, and the world’s better off without them in my opinion…” Aunt Petunia stops crying then, listening as he continues, “asked for all they got, getting mixed up with these wizarding times… just what I expected, always knew they’d come to a sticky end…” Hagrid leaps from the sofa, drawing a battered pink umbrella from inside his coat and pointing it at Uncle Vernon like a sword, “I’m warning you, Dursley—I’m warning you—one more word…” As Uncle Vernon’s in danger of being speared by an umbrella held by a giant man, his courage fails and he flattens himself against the wall and fell silent. “That’s better,” Hagrid states before sitting back down on the sofa, which sags right to the floor. The twins, meanwhile, still had questions, hundreds if not more. “But what happened to Vol—” Harry begins before being elbowed by his sister, as she sees Hagrid’s wince, “sorry—I mean, You-Know-Who?”

“Good question, Harry. Disappeared. Vanished. Same night he tried ter kill you. makes yeh even more famous. That’s the biggest myst’ry, see.. he was gettin’ more an’ more powerful—way’d he go? Some say he died. Codswallop in my opinion. Dunno if he had enough human left in him to die. Some say,” his eyes flick to Aunt Petunia, “he’s still out there, bidin’ his time, like, but I don’t believe it. People who was on his side came back ter ours. Some of ‘em came outta kinda trances. Don’ reckon they could’ve done if he was comin’ back. Most of us reckon he’s still out there somewhere but lost his powers. Too weak to carry on. ’Cause somethin’ about you two finished him. There was somethin’ goin’ on that night he hadn’t counted on—_I _dunno what it was, no one does—but somethin’ about you stumped him, all right.” Hagrid looked at the twins with warmth and respect blazing in his eyes, but neither twin feels pleased and proud. Harry felt quite sure there had been a horrible mistake. _A witch and wizard? Us? How could either of us possibly be? I’ve spent my life being clouted by Dudley, for Cel, tormented. We're both bullied by Uncle Vernon. If we are magical, a witch and wizard, why hadn’t they became warty toads or something every time they were mean to us? If we’d once defeated the greatest sorcerer in the world, how come Cel is terrified of our uncle and I'm kicked around by Dudley like a football. And yes, while my sister is brilliant, there’s no way she’s a green-skinned evil-crackling witch._

For Celeste, it feels right but she can feel her brother’s mind working and going nowhere good, so she elbows him, nudging him to speak. He glowers at her before sighing, “Hagrid. I think you must have made a mistake. I don’t think my sister and I could be a witch and wizard.” Cel smirks and Hagrid laughs heartily, “Not a witch an’ wizard, eh? Never made things happen when you was scared or angry?” His sister bumps into him, whispering, “The zoo.” Harry’s face scrunches as he thinks, looking into the fire. Now that he thinks about it every time their uncle, and on rare occasions their aunt, was furious with them, it was purely accidental, and at least for him, he’d been both angry and scared. When Harry grins, glancing at both his sister and Hagrid, both smiling knowingly. _Leave it to my brilliant sister to figure it out before me,_ he thinks, shaking his head wrapping an arm around her. “See?” Hagrid says, still grinning, “Hadrian and Celeste Potter, not a witch an’ wizard… You wait, you’ll be right famous at Hogwarts.”

“Haven’t I told you they’re not going?” Uncle Vernon hisses, “They’re going to Stonewall High and they’ll be grateful for it. I’ve read those letters and they need all sorts of rubbish—spell books and wands and…” Hagrid growls, interrupting him, “If they want ter go, a great Muggle like you won’t stop them. Stop Lillian an’ James Potter’s twins goin’ ter Hogwarts! Yer mad. Their names’ been down ever since they were born. They’re off ter the finest school of witchcraft and wizardry in the world. Seven years there and they won’t know themselves. They’ll be with youngsters of their own sort, fer a change, an’ they’ll be under the greatest headmaster Hogwarts ever had, Albus Dumbled—"

“I AM NOT PAYING FOR SOME CRACKPOT OLD FOOL TO TEACH THEM MAGIC TRICKS!” Uncle Vernon yells, going too far as Hagrid seizes his umbrella and whirled it over his head. “NEVER—” the giant man thunders, japing his umbrella with each word, “—INSULT—ALBUS—DUMBLEDORE—IN—FRONT—OF—ME!” then he brings the umbrella swishing down through the air to point at Dudley. There was a flask of violet light, a sound like a firecracker, a sharp squeal, and the next second Dudley was dancing on the spot with his hands clasped over his fat bottom, howling in pain.

When he turned his back on them, everyone saw a curly pig’s tail poking through a hole in his trousers. Uncle Vernon roars, pulling Aunt Petunia and Dudley into the other room, then he casts one last terrified look at Hagrid and slams the door behind them. Hagrid sighs, looking down at his umbrella, stroking his beard, “Shouldn’ta lost me temper but it didn’t work anyway. Meant ter turn him into a pig, but I suppose he was so much like a pig there wasn’t much left ter do,” he pauses casting a sideways look to the laughing Potter twins under his bushy eyebrows, “Be grateful if yeh didn’t mention that ter anyone at Hogwarts. I’m—er—not supposed ter do magic, strictly speakin’. I was allowed ter do a bit ter follow yeh an’ get yer letters to yeh an’ stuff—one of the reasons I was so keen ter take on the job—”

“Why aren’t you supposed to do magic?” Celeste asks, frowning. “Oh, well—I was at Hogwarts meself but I—er—got expelled, ter tell yeh the truth. In me third year. They snapped me wand in half an’ everything. But Dumbledore let me stay on as gamekeeper. Great man, Dumbledore.” Harry glances at his sister, “Why were you expelled?” Hagrid ignores that, saying loudly, “It’s getting’ late and we’ve got lots ter do tomorrow. Gotta get up ter town get all yer books an’ that.” then he takes off his thick black coat, tossing it at the twins, “You can kip under that. Don’ mind if it wriggles a bit, I think I still got a couple o’ dormice in one o’ the pockets.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -~=~-~=~-~=~-~=~-~=~-~=~-  
Thanks for reading! I hope ya'll enjoy it and sorry for any mistakes. Positive feedback is greatly appreciated!


	5. Diagon Alley

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Italic are thoughts*  
*Underlined and italicized words are books*  
~ Happy Reading! ~

Chapter 5 | Diagon Alley

-~=~-~=~-~=~-

Harry wakes up early in the morning, feeling his sister still asleep. Silently, he wishes that her dreams are as wonderful as his._ Dreaming of a giant called Hagrid who came to tell us that we were going to a school for witches and wizards._ He keeps his eyes shut, knowing that when he opens them, he’ll be in their cupboard. There’s suddenly a loud tapping noise. _And there’s Aunt Petunia knocking on the door,_ he sighs, his heart sinking still refusing to open his eyes, _it had been such a good dream._ Tap. Tap. Tap. “All right,” Harry mumbles, moving away from his sister trying not to wake her, “I’m getting up.” he sits up, and Hagrid’s heavy coat falls off him and his sister causing her to stir. The hut is full of sunlight, the storm over. Hagrid himself still sleeping on the collapsed sofa, and there’s an owl rapping its claw on the window, a newspaper held in its beak.

As Harry scrambles to his feet, fully waking his sister. Celeste grins, seeing the owl that flies in, dropping the newspaper on top of Hagrid, who’s still asleep. Then it flutters onto the floor attacking Hagrid’s coat. “Don’t do that,” Harry exclaims as the twins try to wave the owl away, but it snaps its beak fiercely at them, continuing savaging the coat. “Hagrid!” Celeste exclaims, turning to the giant, “There’s an owl—” The twins look at each other blankly as Hagrid responds, “Pay him.” _With what?_ Celeste thinks, before eyeing the coat as her brother exclaims “What?”

“He wants payin’ fer deliverin’ the paper. Look in the pockets,” Hagrid huffs. _Knew it,_ Cel is tempted to smirk but doesn’t, helping her brother search. Hagrid’s coat seems to be made of nothing but pockets—bunches of keys, slug pellets, balls of string, peppermint humbugs, tea… finally, Harry finds a handful of strange-looking coins. Both twins stare at it, dumbfounded, both grateful when Hagrid speaks up again, “Give him five knuts.” The Potters stare at each other, uncomprehendingly. _What is a knut?_ Celeste asks herself as Harry slightly freaks out, _great another form of currency to figure out. What is my life?!_ “Knut?” Cel asks, knowing they won’t figure it out without the giant.

“The little bronze ones,” Hagrid mumbles. Celeste happily counts out five little bronze coins, glancing at the owl that is now extending out his leg that has a small leather pouch tied to it. She places the money in the pouch, watching it fly out the window. _What a smart owl!_ Hagrid yawns loudly, sitting up and stretching, “Best be off, Potters, lots ter do today, lotta get ter London an’ buy all yer stuff fer school.” Cel grins at her brother which turns into a frown as Harry is staring at the wizard coins. Her heart drops when he looks up at her sadly, “Um—Hagrid?”

“Mm?” Hagrid replies, putting on his boots. “We haven’t got any money—and you heard Uncle Vernon last night… he won’t pay for us to go and learn magic.” Hagrid shakes his head, “Don’t worry about that. D’yeh think yer parents didn’t leave yeh anything?” Cel’s eyes widen as Harry replies, “But if their house was destroyed—” The giant chuckles, “They didn’t keep their gold in the house, boy! Nah, first stop fer us is Gringotts. Wizards’ bank. Have a couple of sausages, they’re not bad cold—an’ I wouldn’ say no teh a bit o’ yer birthday cake, neither.”

“Wizards have _banks_?” Celeste asks, fascinated. “Just the one. Gringotts. Run by goblins.” Harry drops the last bit of sausage, “Goblins?” looking at his sister terrified. Her eyes though are alight with curiosity and wonder. “Yeah—so yeh’d be mad ter try an’ rob it, I’ll tell yeh that. Never mess with goblins, Potters. Gringotts is the safest place in the world fer anything yeh want ter keep safe— ‘cept maybe Hogwarts. As a matter o’ fact, I gotta visit Gringotts anyway. Fer Dumbledore. Hogwarts business.” He draws himself up proudly, “He usually gets me ter do important stuff fer him. Fetchin’ you—getting’ things from Gringotts—knows he can trust me, see. Got everythin’?” The Potters nod, “Come on, then.”

Harry and Celeste follow Hagrid out onto the rock. Both sighing in relief as the sea gleams in the sunlight, the sky clear. Looking around, the twins only notice the boat Uncle Vernon hired, with a lot of water on the bottom after the storm. “How did you get here?” Cel asks, puzzled. “Flew,” Hagrid replies simply. The twins gawk, saying as one “Flew?!” He glances down at them, chuckling, “Yeah—but we’ll go back in this. Not s’pposed ter use magic now I’ve get yeh.” The trio settles in the boat, the twins still curiously looking at Hagrid, trying to imagine him flying.

“Seems a shame ter row, though,” Hargid continues, giving them another sideways glance, “If I was—er—speed things up a bit, would yeh mind not mentionin’ it at Hogwarts?” Celeste’s eyes light up and Harry readily agrees, “Of course not,” as both are eager to see more magic. Hagrid pulls out his pink umbrella again, tapping the side of the boat twice and they sped off towards land. “Why would you be mad to try and rob Gringotts?” Celeste asks. “Spells—enchantments,” Hagrid answers, unfolding his newspaper, “They say there’s dragons guardin’ the high-security vaults. And then yeh gotta find yer way—Gringotts is hundreds of miles under London, see. Deep under the ground. Yeh’d die of hunger trying ter get out, even if yeh did manage ter get yer hands on summat.”

The Potters nod, thinking this over while Hagrid read his newspaper, the _Daily Prophet_. Both learned from Uncle Vernon that people liked to be left alone while they did this, but it was hard, they have so many questions. “Ministry o’ Magic messin’ things up as usual,” Hagrids mutters, turning the page. “There’s a Ministry of Magic?” Celeste asks, excitedly, Harry laughs. “’Course,” Hagrid replies, without looking up, “They wanted Dumbledore fer Minister, o’ course, but he’d never leave Hogwarts, so old Cornelius Fudge got the job. Bungler if ever there was one. So he pelts Dumbledore with owls every morning, askin’ fer advice.”

“But what does a Ministry of Magic _do_?” asks Harry. “Well, their main job is to keep it from the Muggles that there’s still witches an’ wizards up an’ down the country.” Harry frowns, “Why?” Hagrid repeats him, “_Why_? Blimey, Harry, everyone’d be wantin’ magic solutions to their problems. Nah, we’re best left alone.” When he finishes, the boat gently bumps in the harbor wall. Hagrid folds up his newspaper and they clamber up the stone steps onto the street.

“Um, Hagrid, how are our Aunt and Uncle meant to get back?” Celeste asks, her eyes flicking from the boat to the island. Harry freezes, _leave Cel to be logical and thoughtful._ Hagrid frowns before glancing around and tapping the boat with his umbrella. The twins watch in fascination as it zooms even quicker back to the island. He turns, lifting a brow to her, silently asking if that’s better. She repays him with a brilliant smile, “Thanks Hagrid,” surprising him with a hug. He chuckles, patting her on the back, shaking his head. They walk for a bit before Harry remembers something, “Hagrid did you say there are _dragons_ at Gringotts?” Hagrid chuckles, glancing down at them, “Well, so they say,” he looks away, “Crikey, I’d like a dragon.”

“You’d _like_ one?” Celeste exclaims with wide eyes. “Wanted one ever since I was a kid,” Hagrid responds, “here we go.” They had reached a large motorcycle. The Potters share a glance, just like the one they’ve seen in dreams, the one that can fly. This one has a sidecar where Hagrid pulls out two helmets. The twins share a glance, wondering why this feels familiar. “Still got yer letter, Harry?” Hagrid asks, mounting the bike as the twins climb in. Cel glances at Harry who nods, pulling it out his pocket. “Good. There’s a list there of everything yeh need.” Harry nods again, unfolding the second piece of paper as Cel moves closer to look too.

=-~-=-~-=-~-=

HOGWARTS SCHOOL

Of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY

~-~-~-~-~-~

UNIFORM

First-year students will require:

  1. Three sets of plain work robes (black)
  2. Three white long-sleeve collared button-down shirts
  3. Three black ties
  4. Three pairs of charcoal slacks for boys and charcoal pleated knee-length skirts for girls
  5. Three pairs of charcoal socks, knee-length for girls
  6. Three pairs of black dress shoes
  7. Three pairs of grey long-sleeve jumpers
  8. Extra clothes to wear on weekends and breaks.
  9. One plain pointed hat (black) for day wear
  10. One pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or similar)
  11. One winter cloak (black, silver fastenings)
  12. One large trunk with pupil’s initials on it
  13. One bookbag

Please note that scarves and badges will be provided once House is decided. All pupils’ clothes should carry name tags.

COURSE BOOKS

All students should have a copy of each of the following:

_The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1) _by Miranda Goshawk

_A History of Magic_ by Bathilda Bagshot

_Magical Theory_ by Adalbert Waffling

_A Beginners’ Guide to Transfiguration _by Emeric Switch

_One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi _by Phyllida Spore

_ Magical Drafts and Potions_ by Arsenius Jigger

_ Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them _by Newt Scamander

_ The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection _by Quentin Trimple

OTHER EQUIPMENT

1 wand

1 cauldron (pewter, standard size 2)

1 set glass or crystal vials

1 telescope

1 set brass scales

Students may also bring an owl, a cat, or a toad

PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST YEARS ARE NOT ALLOWED THEIR OWN BROOMSTRICKS

=-~-=-~-=-~-=

“Can we buy all this in London?” Harry wonders aloud. “If yeh know where to go,” Hagrid responds with a wink, and off they go.

The motorcycle must have had some enchantments on it, the Potters figure, as the ride to London seemed to fly by (and they don’t mean literally). All to soon, they’re parked on a street lined with shops; book shops and music stores, hamburger restaurants and cinemas but nowhere that looks like it could (or would) sell a magic wand. Just an ordinary street, full of ordinary people. _Could there really be piles of wizarding gold buried miles beneath us?_ Harry wonders, as he and his sister stick close to Hagrid, who seems to know exactly where to go. _Are there really shops that sell spell books and broomsticks? Might this not all be some huge joke Uncle Vernon and Dudley cooked up?_ he snorts, _No, I’m pretty sure neither have a sense of humor or the imagination for this. Besides,_ Harry continues, looking at Hagrid, _I trust him even if what he’s saying is unbelievable and_… He glances at his sister, who’s eyes are taking in everything, _Cel trusts him too._ And the Potters' full trust was hard to earn.

“This is it,” Hagrid states, coming to a surprising stop that has the twins nearly run into him, “the Leaky Cauldron. It’s a famous place.” The Leaky Cauldron is a tiny, grubby-looking pub, that if it wasn’t for Hagrid the twins wouldn’t have noticed. As the Potters glance around, it seems like no one else notices either as their eyes slide from the big bookstore on one side to the record shop on the other almost as if they can’t see it at all. Both Potters have the peculiar feeling that only they and Hagrid see the pub. But they can’t voice this before they’re prodded inside by Hagrid.

Inside, Celeste’s nose wrinkles as the smells of the dark, shabby pub hits her and Harry. A few old women are sitting in a corner, drinking tiny glasses of, from the twins guess, is sherry. Cel nearly sneezes, seeing one of them smoking a long pipe. There’s also a little man in a top hat, who seems familiar, who’s talking to the old bartender, who’s quite bald and looks like a toothless walnut. The low buzz of chatter stops when they walk in. Apparently, everyone inside knows Hagrid, each waving and smiling at him and the bartender reaches for a glass, asking, “The usual, Hagrid?”

“Can’t, Tom, I’m on Hogwarts business,” Hagrid replies, resting his hands on the Potter twins' backs. “Good Lord,” ‘Tom’ says, his eyes landing on the twins, “is this—can this be—” The Leaky Cauldron gets suddenly completely still and silent as the bartender continues in a whisper, “Bless my soul. Hadrian and Celeste Potter… what an honor,” hurrying out from behind the bar and rushing toward the now wide-eyed Potters with tears in his eyes. Tom takes Harry’s hand first, shaking it, “Welcome back, Mr. Potter,” before moving to Celeste, taking hers and placing a kiss on it, “Welcome back, Miss Potter.” The twins are speechless as now everyone is now staring at them. The old smoking woman still puffing on it without realizing it has gone out. Hagrid is beaming. Then there’s a symphony of scraping chairs and the next moment, the Potters find themselves shaking, or having their hands kissed occasionally in Cel’s case, by everyone in the pub.

“Doris Crockford, Mr & Miss Potter, can’t believe I’m meeting you at last,” says a nice older lady with tears in her eyes. “So proud, Mr & Miss Potter, I’m just so proud.” Pretty soon the children had difficulty keeping up. “Always wanted to shake your hands—I’m all of a flutter.” The old man with the top hat was next, “Delighted, Mr & Miss Potter, just can’t tell you. Diggle’s the name, Dedalus Diggle.” The twins share a look. “We’ve seen you before!” Harry exclaims, watching Diggle’s top hat fall off his head in his excitement. “You bowed to us once in a shop,” Celeste adds, her eyes wide.

“They remember!” Dedalus Diggle cries, looking around at everyone, “Did you hear that? They remember me!” The twins' chuckle, even as they shake, or had hands kissed, again and again, Doris Crockford kept coming back for more. A pale young man makes his way forward, very nervously, one of his eyes twitching. There was something about him that had Celeste on alert, something she couldn’t place. “Professor Quirrell!” Hagrid exclaims, “Harry, Cel, Professor Quirrell will be one of your teachers at Hogwarts.” Quirrel grasps Harry’s hand first then like the others kisses Cel’s. “P-P-Potters,” he stammers, “c-can’t t-tell you how p-pleased I am to meet you.” Cel’s head tilts, “What sort of magic do you teach, Professor Quirrel?”

“D-Defense Against the D-D-Dark arts,” Quirell mutters as though he’d rather not think about it. “N-not that you n-need it, eh, P-P-Potters?” he laughs nervously, “You’ll be g-getting all your equipment, I suppose? I’ve g-got to p-pick up a new b-book on vampires, m-myself,” looking terrified of the very thought. The twins couldn’t reply as the others wouldn’t let their future Professor keep the young Potters to himself. It takes nearly ten minutes to get away from them all because Hagrid booms, “Must get on—lots ter buy. Come on, Harry, Cel.” Doris Crockford manages to take the twins' hands one last time before Hagrid leads them out of the bar. He takes them to a small, walled courtyard, where there’s nothing but a trash can and a few tufts of weeds. “Told yeh, didn’t I?” Hagrid grins, “Told yer you was famous. Even Professor Quirrel was tremblin’ ter meet yeh—mind you, he’s usually tremblin’.”

“Is he always that nervous?” Celeste asks concerned. “Oh, yeah. Poor bloke. Brilliant mind. He was fine while he was studyin’ outta books but then he took a year off ter get some firsthand experience… they say he met vampires in the Black Forest, and there was a nasty bit o’ trouble with a hag—never been the same since. Scared of the students, scared of his own subject—now where’s me umbrella?” Harry and Cel share a look as Hagrid starts counting bricks in the wall above the trash can. “Three up… two across…” he mutters, “Right, stand back, Potters.” They do, watching as he taps the wall three times with the tip of his umbrella.

The Potters gasp as the brick he had touched quivers—it wriggles—in the middle a small hole appears, growing wider and wider. A second passes, the trio now facing a massive archway big enough for even Hagrid leading to a cobbled street that had stores all along its sides as it twists and turns out of sight. Hagrid looks down at them with warmth, “Welcome to Diagon Ally,” grinning at their awe. Sunlight shines brightly on a stack of cauldrons outside the nearest shop. Cauldrons—All Sizes—Copper, Brass, Pewter, Silver—Self-stirring—Collapsible, they read on a sign hanging above them. “Yeah, you’ll be needin’ one,” Hagrid says, his eyes following theirs, “But we gotta get yer money first.”

The twins wish they had about eight more eyes as they walk, trying to see everything: the shops, the things outside them, the people doing their shopping. Like a plump woman outside an Apothecary, shaking her head as they pass, “Dragon liver, seventeen Sickles an ounce, they’re mad…” Next, they pass a dark shop, hearing low, soft hooting, named Eeylops Owl Emporium—Tawny, Screech, Barn, Brown, and Snowy. Several boys of about their age have their noses pressed against a window with broomsticks in it. “Look,” they hear one of them say, awed, “the new Nimbus Two Thousand—fastest ever—" There are shops selling robes and uniforms, shops selling telescopes and strange silver instruments the twins had never seen before, windows stacked with barrels of bat spleens and eels’ eyes, tottering piles of spellbooks, quills, and roll of parchment, potion bottles, globes of the moon…_ it was incredible!_

“Gringotts,” Hagrid says, breaking the trance on the twins, who now notice they’ve stopped in front of a snowy white building that towered over the little shops. Standing beside its burnished bronze doors wearing a uniform of scarlet and gold, was… “Yeah, that’s a goblin,” Hagrid whispers quietly as they walk up the white stone steps toward him. The goblin is about a head shorter than Harry, as Cel is just a bit taller than he is, with a swarthy, clever face, a pointed beard, and very long fingers and feet. He bows to them as they pass and they now face the second pair of doors, silver this time, with words engraved upon them

=-~-=-~-=-~-=

_Enter, stranger, but take heed_

_Of what awaits the sin of greed,_

_For those who take, but do not earn,_

_Must pay most dearly in their turn._

_So if you seek beneath our floors_

_A treasure that was never yours._

_Thief, you have been warned, beware_

_Of finding more than treasure there._

=-~-=-~-=-~-=

“Like I said, yeh’d be mad ter try an’ rob it,” Hagrid states.

A pair of goblins bows them through the silver doors, allowing them inside a vast marble hall. About a hundred more goblins sat on high stools behind a long counter, scribbling in large ledgers, weighing coins in brass scales, examining precious stones through eyeglasses. There are many doors leading off the hall, and yet more goblins showing people in and out of them. The trio stop at the counter.

“Morning,” Hagrid greets a free goblin, “We’ve come ter take some money outta the Potters’ vault.” The goblin glances at the twins in surprise, before nodding and turning to Hagrid, “You have their key, sir?” Hagrid nods, “Got it here somewhere,” then started emptying his pockets onto the counter, scattering a handful of moldy dog biscuits over the goblin’s book of numbers causing the goblin to wrinkle his nose. The twins watch a goblin on their right weighing a pile of rubies as big as glowing coals. “Got it,” Hagrid finally says, holding up two tiny golden keys. The goblin looks at them closely before motioning for the Potters’ hands. They share a worried look before doing as it asks. All the goblin does is place one key into each twins’ hand. Their eyes widen when it feeling like it burns where the metal touches their skin, but it’s a comforting warmth like a hug, like love. Finally the goblin nods, “Everything seems to be in order.”

“An’ I also got a letter here from Professor Dumbledore,” Hagrid says importantly, throwing his chest out before handing the letter to the goblin, and sideglancing at the twins, “It’s about the You-Know-What in vault You-Know-Which.” The twins share an intrigued look as the goblin reads it carefully before nodding, “Very well. I will have someone take you down to both vaults. Griphook!” Griphook being yet another goblin who, once Hagrid gathers all the dog biscuits back, leads the trio toward one of the doors leading off the hall. “What’s the You-Know-What in vault You-Know-Which?” Harry asks, ignoring his sister’s glare. “Can’t tell yeh that,” Hagrid answers, now gaining both’s curiosity, “Very secret. Hogwarts business. Dumbledore’s trusted me. More’n my job’s worth ter tell yeh that.”

Well now, Celeste was very interested. She smiles at Griphook as he holds the door open for them. Instead of leading the twins to another marble room, like Harry was expecting, they were in a narrow stone passageway lit with flaming torches. It slopes deeply downward and there are little railway tracks on the floor. Griphook whistles and a small cart comes hurtling up the tracks toward them then he motions for them to get it. They do, Hagrid with some difficulty and then they’re off.

At first, they just hurtle through a maze of twisting passages. The Potters try to remember, left, right, right, left, middle fork, right, left, but it was impossible. Sometimes, at least to Celeste, the cart seemed to go in a circle knowing they were trying to keep up with the directions. And yes, she means cart as Griphook isn’t steering. Their eyes were stinging, but they refuse to close them not wanting to miss a thing. Once, Harry thought the saw a burst of fire at the end of a passage but just as he turned to get a better look to see if it was a dragon, they plunge even deeper. They pass a rather large underground lake with huge stalagmites rising to meet their pointier other halves, stalactites. Harry who always gets confused about which is what opens his mouth to ask looking at Hagrid. He shuts it, thinking better seeing how incredibly green he is.

The door they stop at is rather small, the twins share a glance as Hagrid goes to lean against the wall to stop his knees from trembling. Griphook unlocks the door, a lot of green smoke comes billowing out as it swings open and as the smoke clears, the Potters gasp. Inside are dozens of mounds of gold coins, several dozen columns of silver, and more heaps of little bronze Knuts. “All yours,” Hagrid smiles, glancing at the awe dumbstruck Potters.

_ All their’s_, the Potters echo in their heads. It was incredible. The Dursleys, or at least Uncle Vernon, couldn’t have known about this or they’d have had it from them faster than blinking. How often was it that Uncle Vernon complains how much the twins cost them to keep? _And,_ the twins' smirk,_ all this time there was a rather sizable fortune belonging to them, buried deep under London._ Hagrid helps the twins pile some of it into bags, one for each Potter.

“The gold ones are Galleons,” Hagrid explains, “Seventeen silver Sickles to a Galleon and twenty-nine Knuts to a Sickle, it’s easy enough.” Harry glances at his sister, who’s nodding as Hagrid continues, “right, that should be enough fer a couple o’ terms, we’ll keep the rest safe fer yeh.”

“Vault seven hundred and thirteen now, please, and can we go more slowly?” Hagrid asks. The goblin shakes his head, “One speed only.” This time they go even deeper, gathering even more speed. The air became colder and colder, as they hurtle around tight corners. The twins figure that this must be the wizarding world equivalent to a rollercoaster. _Just wait until I tell Dudley about this,_ Harry smirks as the zoom over an underground ravine. Both Potters lean over, trying to see what’s at the dark bottom but Hagrid groans, pulling them back by the scruffs of their necks. Finally, they stop.

The Potters swallow, realizing that vault seven hundred and thirteen has no keyhole. “Stand back,” Griphook says importantly, the twins hurriedly complying. They watch in fascination as the goblin strokes the door gently with one of his long fingers and it simply melts away. “if anyone but a Gringotts goblin tried that, they’d be sucked through the door and trapped in there,” Griphook states unnecessarily. They swallow as Harry asks, “How often do you check to see if anyone’s inside?”

“About once every ten years,” Griphook replies, smirking at the twins' expressions. _Something really extraordinary has to be inside this top security vault_, the twins gather leaning forward eagerly, expecting fabulous jewels before frowning in confusion._ It was empty_, then their eyes land on a small little package wrapped in brown paper resting on the floor in the center of the vault. Hagrid grunts, moving inside and picking it up before tucking it deep inside his coat. Both longs to know what it is but know better than to ask. “Come on, Potters, back in this infernal cart, and,” Hagrid turns, pointing at them, “don’t talk to me on the way back, it’s best if I keep me mouth shut.”

One wild cart ride later, they now stand blinking rapidly in the sunlight outside Gringotts. Neither twin knows where to start first now that they have a bag full of money. Though neither knew the conversion from Galleons to pounds, both know they’re holding more money than they have ever held in their life—more money than even Dudley has ever had. “Might as well get yer uniforms,” Hagrid begins after sucking in air for several minutes, then pointing toward Madam Malkin’s Robes for all Occasions, “Listen, Potters, would yeh mind if I slipped off fer a pick-me-up in the Leaky Cauldron? I hate them Gringotts carts.” As the twins noted that their hairy friend still looks a bit sick, they nod before entering Madam Malkin’s shop alone, feeling anxious.

Madam Malkin is a squat, smiling witch wearing all mauve, “Hogwarts, dears?” both nod. Her smile turns reassuring as she nods, “Don’t be nervous, we get the lot here. There are two other boys being fitted just now, in fact.” The twins follow her to the back where there is indeed two boys who look like complete opposites. The one being fitted has a pale slightly pointed face with white-blond hair tightly slicked back. His steely blue-grey eyes on the other watching. He is pale too, but his face is slightly rounder with curly jet black hair, hanging just short of his grey eyes. It’s him who sees the twins enter, his eyes on Celeste as Harry steps on the stool next to the pale blond boy.

“Hello,” he greets, “Hogwarts, too?” Harry nods, his eyes flicking to his sister, who’s eyes are alight with awe as she watches a measuring tape move on its own around him and a pen writing down his measurements. The pale boy’s eyes follow, taking in the Potters rather raggedy appearance. “My father’s next door buying our books,” his eyes flick to the dark-haired boy, “and mother’s buying us owls.” The dark-haired boy smirks, “Then we’re going to drag them off to look at racing brooms.”

“Why?” his companion asks, rolling his eyes, “You know first years aren’t allowed their own and,” his blue-grey eyes narrow, “don’t try to bully my father into it, Caelum.” The dark-haired boy, Caelum, smirks, “And where’s your sense of adventure, Draco. Smuggling some in would be easy.” The blond, Draco, huffs, switching with Caelum. “Do _you_ got your own brooms?” Caelum continues. Harry shakes his head, “No.” Draco frowns, “Play Quidditch at all?”

“No,” Harry answers again, glancing at his sister, who now wondering what this Quidditch is. _Didn’t Hagrid say our father was a Quidditch Captain?_ Cel sighs, _something else to question Hagrid about._ “Well, we do,” sneers Caelum, earning himself a dark look from the blond, “Uncle says it’s a crime if we aren’t picked to play for our house, and I must say I agree. Know what house you’ll be in yet?” Harry swallows, feeling stupider by the minute but so thankful for his sister’s sharp reply, “No.”

“Well, no one really knows until they get there,” the blond, Draco, replies sensing the hostility in Cel’s tone as she switches with her brother. “We’ll be in Slytherin, Draco like all our family has been,” Caelum says unnecessarily, looking at the other with a glint in his eyes, “Imagine being in Hufflepuff, I think I’d leave, wouldn’t you?” _As long as it’s away from you,_ Draco thinks internally, seeing the Potters share a glance, both reminded strongly of Dudley. “I say, look at that man!” Caelum exclaims, nodding forward the front window. The future Hogwarts students all do, but Draco looks back in time to see the Potters’ fond smiles at the massive man outside. Hagrid is grinning at them, pointing at two large ice creams to show why he can’t come in. “That’s Hagrid,” Cel replies, pleased to know both Potters know something Caelum didn’t, “He works at Hogwarts.”

“Oh,” Caelum says, “We’ve heard of him. He’s a sort of servant, isn’t he?” Draco swallows at the glare his companion receives from the Potters. “He’s the gamekeeper,” Harry nearly growls, liking these boys less and less. Every second. Draco gives Caelum a warning glance, _do not continue Caelum, What are you doing?!_ His companion, of course, doesn’t pay attention, just digs himself, and Draco, into a deeper hole, “Yes, exactly,” he sneers, throwing the giant man a disgusted look, “I heard he’s a sort of savage—lives in a hut on the school grounds and every now and then he gets drunk, tries to do magic, and ends up setting fire to his bed.”

“I think he’s brilliant,” Harry cuts in as Draco’s eyes widen, pretty sure the redhead’s hair is crackling with magic. Panic and in slight awe of the untrained witch, he turns to his companion, silently pleading with him to stay quiet. Caelum, however, is enjoying himself, adoring feeling the redhead’s magic, knowing he caused it and so he continues. “_Do_ you?” he sneers, “Why is he with you? Where are your parents?” _That’s a good question,_ Draco adds silently, wondering the same. Magic is definitely coming from the young witch when she basically growls, “They’re dead.” She doesn’t feel the need to tell the insufferable boy any more than that, and with a glance she knows Harry feels the same. Draco’s heart pounds, wanting to say something but his idiot companion opens his mouth first. “Oh sorry,” he says, not sounding even a hair sincere, “But they were,” his eyes flick over both Potters, “_our_ kind, weren’t they?”

“They were a witch and wizard, if that’s what you mean,” Harry replies, feeling how close his sister is to snapping. _And she’s the one who’s normally calmer_, Harry reasons. “I really don’t think they should let the other sort in, do you? They’re just not the same, they’ve never been brought up to know our ways. Some of them have never even heard of Hogwarts until they get the letter, imagine. I think they should keep it in the old wizarding families.” Draco immediately knew his companion went too far, watching the redhead’s hair flicker like fire but Caelum continues, “What’s your surname anyway?”

“That’s you done, my dears,” Madam Malkin smiles, awed by the power of the young witch. The Potters smile at her politely, ignoring the boys completely. “Well, we’ll see you at Hogwarts, I suppose,” Caelum says, smirking victoriously as he watches the Potters leave. Draco shoots him a dark look, before his eyes follow the Potters, wishing he was brave enough to say something, to apologize. After Harry and Cel pick up their uniforms, they turn to leave nearly bumping into a tall blonde woman dressed elegantly. Both whispers their apologies, before waiting for her pass than going on their way. The blond woman’s grey eyes following after them, in surprise.

The Potter twins are nearly deathly silent as they lick the ice cream Hagrid got them (chocolate and raspberry for Harry and chocolate and caramel for Cel, both with chopped nuts on top). “What’s up?” Hagrid asks, frowning down at them. “Nothing,” Harry says, lying as he glances at his sister. They stopped to buy parchment and quills, both cheering up when they found a bottle of ink that changes color as you write. “Hagrid, what’s Quidditch?” Cel asks, giving up of silently fuming and trying to figure it out her self. “Blimey, I keep forgettin’ how little yeh know—not knowin’ about Quidditch?”

“Don’t make me feel worse,” mutters Celeste. Harry wraps an arm around her before telling Hagrid about the boys in Madame Malkin’s. “—and he said people from muggle families shouldn’t even be allowed in—” he feels his sister tense, and he whispers, “Sorry, Cel.” She nods shortly in response. “Yer not _from _a Muggle family. If they’d known who yeh _were_—they’ve grown up knowin’ yer name if their parents are wizardin’ folk. You saw what everyone in the Leaky Cauldron was like when they saw yeh. Anyway, what do they even know about it, some o’ the best I ever saw were the only ones with magic in ‘em in a long line o’ muggles—just look at yer mum!”

“So what _is _Quidditch?” Harry asks, interested himself and wanting to ease his sister. “It’s our sport. Wizard sport. It’s like—like soccer in the Muggle world—everyone follows Quidditch—played up in the air on broomsticks and there’s four balls—sorta hard ter explain the rules.” Cel finally perks up a bit, “And what are Slytherin and Hufflepuff?” Harry grins, happy to have his sister back. “Houses in Hogwarts, there’s four in total: Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, Gryffindor, and Slytherin.” She grins, before asking, “Is there one that all Potters have gone?” Hagrid’s eyes widen, “Well, yer parents were Gryffindors, but yer dad’s mom was a generational Slytherin and his dad a generational Gryffindor with a few exceptions here and there. But not worry, yer parents will be proud, with any house you enter.”

Cel nods as they enter a shop called Flourish and Blotts for their school books. She freezes in awe at the bookcases that reach the ceiling with books as large as paving stones bound in leather; book the size of postage stamps in covers of silk; books full of peculiar symbols and a few books with nothing in them at all. Harry’s eyes widen, _even Dudley, who never reads anything, would go wild to get his hands on some of these._ Harry nearly has to be dragged away from _Curses and Counter-curses (Bewitch Your Friends and Befuddle Your Enemies with the Latest Revenges: Hair Loss, Jelly-Legs, Tongue-Tying and Much, Much More)_ by Professor Vindictus. “I was trying to find out how to curse Dudley,” Harry nearly whines, _or those boys from Madame Malkin’s._

“I’m not sayin’ that’s not a good idea, but yer not ter use magic in the Muggle world except in very special circumstances,” Hagrid says, shaking his head as they look for the other Potter, “An’ anyway, yeh couldn’t work any of them curses yet, yeh’ll need a lot more study before yeh get ter that level.” The two find Cel flicking through another book, her eyes eagerly soaking in the text. _Just like their parents they are,_ Hagrid muses, thankfully not having to be drag away, though she longing stares at the bookshop as they leave. _Hagrid is no fun, _Harry muses, _as he didn’t let me buy a solid gold cauldron, both reminding me, “The list says pewter, Harry.”_ They both get a nice set of scales for weighting potion ingredients and a collapsible brass telescope. Then they visit the Apothecary, which is fascinating enough to make up for its horrible smell, a mixture of bad eggs and rotted cabbages. Barrels of slimy stuff stand on the floor; jars of herbs, dried roots, and bright powders line the walls; bundles of feathers, strings of fangs, and snarled claws hang from the ceiling.

“Just yer wands left,” Hagrid says, reading from the list, “Oh yeah, an’ I still haven’t got yeh birthday presents.”Both Potter flush, “You don’t have to—” they begin. “I know I don’t have to,” Hagrid says, shaking his head, “Tell yeh what, I’ll get yer animals.” Harry chuckles, glancing at his sister, “Cel already has a cat.” He watching her grin and Hagrid sighs, “Of course, yeh got a cat just like yeh mum. Bloody things make me sneeze. I was thinkin’ of gettin’ yeh some books anyway.” He turns to Harry, “Not a toad, toads went outta fashion years ago, yeh’d be laughed at. I’ll get yer an owl. All the kids want owls, they’re dead useful, carry yer mail an’ everythin’ and yeh can share.” Harry who was about to protest, nods.

Later, Harry’s carrying a large cage that holds a beautiful snowy owl, fast asleep with her head under her wing and Cel’s arms are full of books that were recommended her. Both stammering their thanks, again and again. “Don’ mention it,” Hagrid says gruffly, “Don’ expect you’ve had a lotta presents from them Dursleys.”_ It seems like their aunt would like to though, but that husband of hers._ “just Ollivanders left now,” he continues, “Only place fer wands, Ollivanders, and yeh gotta have the best wand.” _A magic wand…_ the twins repeat in their heads, grinning at each other.

The outside of the wand shop was narrow and shabby, peeling gold letter over the door read Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C A single wand lays on a faded purple cushion in the dusty window. There’s a tinkle of a bell in the depths of the shop as they step inside. It’s a tiny place, empty except for a single, spindly chair that Hagrid sits on, waiting. Both felt as though they had entered a very strict library; both swallow thousands of new questions that just came to them, deciding to look at the thousands of narrow boxes piled neatly right up to the ceiling. For some reason, the back of their necks prickle. The very dust and silence in here seem to tingle with some secret magic.

“Good afternoon,” a soft voice says behind them causing both to jump. Hagrid must have jumped too because there was a loud crunching noise and he quickly stands up. The twins turn, now seeing an old man standing before them, wide, pale eyes shining like moons through the gloom of the shop. “Hello,” the twins greet, blushing with embarrassment. “Ah yes,” the man replies, smiling slightly, “Yes, yes. I thought I’d be seeing you soon. Hadrian & Celeste Potter.” It wasn’t a question. “Ms. Potter, you look exactly like your mother at your age. It seems only yesterday she was in here herself, buying her first wand. Ten and a quarter inches long, swishy, made of willow. Nice wand for charm work.” His silvery eyes flick to Harry, “and Mr. Potter, the image of your father with your mother’s eyes, of course. He favored a mahogany wand, eleven inches, pliable, a little more power and excellent for transfiguration. Well, I say your father favored it—it’s really the wand that chooses the wizard, of course.”

Mr. Ollivander moved closer as he spoke so now he’s directly in front of the Potter twins. So close that they can see themselves reflected in his unblinking eyes. “And that’s where…” both startle slightly as he simultaneously touches the lightning scar on their foreheads with a long, white finger. “I’m sorry to say I sold the wand that did it,” he says softly, slight pain in his eyes, “Thirteen-and-a half inches, yew, powerful wand, very powerful and in the wrong hands… well, if I’d known what that wand was going out into the world to do…” trailing off, his eyes sliding to Hagrid, “Rubeus! Rubeus Hagrid! How nice to see you again… Oak, sixteen inches, rather bendy, wasn’t it?”

“It was, sir, yes,” Hagrid nods, “Good wand, that one. But I suppose they snapped it in half when you got expelled?” Mr. Ollivander asks, suddenly stern. “Er—yes, they did, yes,” Hagrid replies shuffling his feet, “I’ve still got the pieces though,” he adds brightly. “But you don’t _use_ them?” Mr. Ollivander asks sharply. “Oh, no, sir,” Hagrid says quickly, gripping his pink umbrella very tightly. “Hmmm,” Mr. Ollivander responds giving Hagrid a piercing look before turning to the Potters, “Well, now—Mr. Potter first. Let me see.” He pulls out a long tape measure with silver markings out of his pocket, “Which is your wand arm?”

“Er—well, I’m right-handed,” Harry replies, hoping that is what he’s asking. “Hold out your arm. That’s it,” Mr. Ollivander says, measuring Harry from shoulder to finger, then wrist to elbow, shoulder to floor, knee to armpit and around his head, continuing as he goes, “Every Ollivander wand has a core of a powerful magical substance. We use unicorn hairs, phoenix tail feathers, and the heartstrings of dragons. No two Ollivander wands are the same, just as no two unicorns, dragons, or phoenixes are quite the same. and of course you will never get such good results with another’s wand.” Celeste chuckles, watching her brother’s reaction when he realizes that the tape measure was measuring him on its own as Mr. Ollivander is flitting around the shelves, taking down boxes.

“That will do,” Mr. Ollivander says, returning to the Potters and the tape measure crumples into a heap on the floor, “right then, Mr. Potter. Try this on. Beechwood and dragon heartstring, nine inches, nice and flexible. Just take it and give it a wave.” Harry glances at his sister as he takes the wand, and feeling foolish, waves it. He jumps slightly as Mr. Ollivander snatches it away, handing him another, “Maple and phoenix feather, seven inches, quite whippy, try—” Harry takes it, but hardly raises it at all when that too is snatched away by Mr. Ollivander. “No, no—here, ebony and unicorn hair, eight and a half inches, springy. Go on, go on, try it out.” Harry tries and tries, having no idea what Mr. Ollivander wants. The pile of tried wands kept mounting higher and higher on the spindly chair, but the more wands Mr. Ollivander took from the shelves, the happier he became.

“Tricky customer, eh? Not to worry, we’ll find the perfect match here somewhere,” Mr. Ollivander says, searching through some boxes on a shelf. He pauses looking at Harry, then the grabs a box. “I wonder, now,” he nods, “Yes, why not,” then brings the box with him, standing in front of Harry, carefully handing Harry a light wood wand, “unusual combination—holly and phoenix feather, eleven inches, nice and supple.” As soon as it was fully in Harry’s hand, he feels sudden warmth in his fingers. Unconsciously, he raises it above his head then swishes it down through the dusty air, causing a stream of red and gold sparks to shoot from the end like fireworks, throwing dancing spots of light on the walls. Hagrid whoops and Cel grins at him, both clapping as Mr. Ollivander cries, “Oh, bravo! Yes, indeed, oh, very good,” then he takes from him. Harry feels like a piece of him has left too as he watches his wand be put back into its box. “Now to Ms. Potter,” Mr. Ollivander says, placing Harry’s wand on the counter. Harry shakes it off grinning for his sister. “Your wand arm, dear?” Cel swallows, “I’m ambidextrous, sir, but I do favor my left.” Mr. Ollivander looks impressed, nodding then waving his hand, awakening his tape measure who begins measuring the youngest Potter.

Harry grins, watching his sister’s pile of tried wands grow as well, though not nearly as many as Harry’s. It seems the older twin has helped Ollivander narrow it down. “This is an interesting combination too,” Mr. Ollivander says after her sixth ‘failed’ attempted, pulling out another light wood wand, “Willow and phoenix feather, ten and a quarter inches, swishy.” Cel gasps lightly, feeling like she been dipped into a warm bath as gold and silver light surrounds her, like an aura. Harry nearly gapes seeing her hair raise like a halo before joining Hagrid and Ollivander in cheering for her. She gives them a beautiful smile, as Mr. Ollivander takes it, replacing it back into its box, “How curious… how very curious…” The twins eagerly follow him to the counter, where he wraps both wand boxes in brown paper, muttering, “Curious… curious…”

“Sorry,” Harry says, glancing at his sister then the old man, “but _what’s_ curious?” Mr. Ollivander locks both Potters with his pale stare, “I remember every wand I’ve ever sold, Mr. Potter. Every single wand. It so happens that the phoenix whose tail feather lays in your wand gave two others, just two others. One is in your sister’s wand, the other…” he swallows, “It is very curious indeed that you both should be destined for these wands when their brother—why, their brother gave you those scars.” The twins’ eyes widen, swallowing, “Yes, thirteen-and-a-half inches, yew. Curious indeed how these things happen. The wand chooses the wizard,” his eyes flick to Cel, “and witch, remember… I think we must expect great things from both of you, young Potters… After all, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named did great things—terrible, yes, but great.” Both Potters shiver, suddenly uneasy, paying seven Galleons each for their wands, and Mr. Ollivander bows them from his shop.

_ I wonder if everyone expects great things from us_, Celeste wonders as the trio walk in the late afternoon sun, making their way back down Diagon Alley, back through the wall, back through the now empty Leaky Cauldron. Neither Potter speaks as they head to Hagrid’s motorbike. Somehow they manage to fit both trunks inside, then both climb inside the sidecar, Harry with the Snowy Owl on his lap. They stay quiet the entire ride, both lost in their thoughts even as Hagrid stops at a small diner.

“Got time fer a bite before yer home,” Hagrid says, breaking them out of their thoughts. They nod, Hagrid smiles at them before buying them a burger and a milkshake. They eat outside, where everything seems so different, so strange now. “You all right yer two? Yer very quiet,” Hagrid asks, noticing the distant look in their faces. Neither knew how to explain. They just had the best birthday of their lives, and yet… “Everyone thinks we’re special,” Harry begins, looking at his sister, seeing her nod before continuing “All those people in the Leaky Cauldron, Professor Quirrel, Mr. Ollivander… but we don’t know anything about magic at all.”

“How can they expect great things?” Harry continues, on a rant now, “We’re famous and we can’t even remember what we’re famous for. Neither of us knows what happened when Vol—” Hagrid flinches, “sorry—I mean the night our parents died,” Cel nods in agreement. Hagrid sighs, before leaning toward them, and behind the wild beard and eyebrows is a very kind smile, “Don’ you worry, Potters. You’ll learn fast enough. Everyone starts at the beginning at Hogwarts, you’ll be just fine. Just be yerselves. I know it’s hard. Yeh’ve been singled out, an’ that’s always hard. But yeh’ll have a great time at Hogwarts—I did—still do, ‘smater of fact.”

The Potters feel lighter when they return to the bike and Hagrid drives them home. He drops them on the sidewalk, seeing the Dursleys’ car in the driveway before helping them get their things. Once everything thing is resting on the sidewalk, he hands them another envelope. “Yer ticket fer Hogwarts,” He explains at their confused faces, “First of September – King’s Cross – it’s all on yer ticket. Any problem with the Dursleys, send me a letter with yer owl, she’ll know where to find me… See yeh soon, Harry, Celeste.” The twins' nod before surprising the giant with a hug, then gathering their trunks with their initials engraved on the side headed into the house.

Aunt Petunia smiles at them tightly as they enter, surprising them both by helping them get their school things into their rooms. They’re further surprises that both rooms have had everything broken of Dudley’s removed, only the books remaining on Cel’s shelves and even more shocking clean clothes and linen. “Happy Birthday,” Petunia whispers once they’ve gone to bed, placing a soft kiss on their foreheads, “Happy Birthday.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -~=~-~=~-~=~-~=~-~=~-~=~-  
Thanks for reading! I hope ya'll enjoy it and sorry for any mistakes. Positive feedback is greatly appreciated!


	6. The Hogwarts Express

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Italic are thoughts*  
*Underlined and italicized words are books*  
~ Happy Reading! ~

Chapter 6 | The Hogwarts Express

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The Potters’ last month with the Dursley was thankfully uneventful. Dudley is now terrified of being in the same room as either Potter while Uncle Vernon, or while he was around, Aunt Petunia, would ignore them. There were times when they’d appreciate it, other times it was a bit depressing. Both mostly stayed in their rooms, reading their schoolbooks, Harry named his owl, Hedwig, a name he found in _A_ _History_ _of_ _Magic_ Cel found it perfect. Hedwig had free rein, being able to swoop in and out of his room through the window. She always brought back dead mice while he read in bed.

Celeste had read every book at least three times, wanting to prove to herself that she’d be no different than those who were raised by wizarding families. She researched Hogwarts, the Houses, Quidditch, read all she could about her and Harry’s legacy, of Lord Voldemort. And though she’d deny it, even learned she could place at home. She figured this out by accidentally using a mending spell, _“Reparo,”_ that managed to fix everything in her room. Elastic, she went to her brother’s doing the same, without Harry being any the wiser. Sometimes she even accidentally changes the color of the walls in her room, something she still isn’t sure how. Aquila wasn’t pleased. Harry though never asked her about any of it, just stuck to his reading, Hedwig, and marking the days on his calendar.

Harry and Cel had gotten into an argument, when he was complaining, still, about the boys in Madam Malkin’s shop. She couldn’t believe he was blaming the blond boy too. It was all the dark-haired one's fault. But no, “He didn’t stop him though, did he?” is all Harry would say to that. _It wasn’t from lack of trying,_ Cel thought darkly. Apparently, her brother hadn’t seen the looks the blond would give his companion, _or just didn’t care._ They barely spoke to each other on account of this, though Cel still would try. A couple of days before September, Aunt Petunia had sat her down and talked to her about things she may or may not experience this year, so she wouldn’t panic. None of which had anything to do with magic. And, Cel was sure, that Uncle Vernon didn’t pull Harry aside.

On the last day of August, the Potters had reconciled and decided that they should probably talk to their uncle and aunt about getting to King’s Cross. They waited long enough. They head down to the living room where the trio of Dursleys is watching tv. After a pointed glance from his sister, Harry clears his throat causing Dudley to scream and run from the room. Cel rolls her eyes as they watch him, _honestly._ “Er—Uncle Vernon?” he grunts, showing he was listening. “Er—we need to be at King’s Cross tomorrow to…” he glances at his sister, who’s motioning for him to continue, “to go to Hogwarts.” Their uncle grunts again and Harry flounders. “Would it be all right if you gave us a lift?” Cel continues for him, rolling her eyes. Another grunt, “Thank you.” Both were nearly about to head back upstairs when their uncle actually spoke, “Funny way to get to a wizards’ school, the train. Magic carpets all got punctures, have they?” Neither Potter said anything. “Where’s this school, anyway?”

“The Highlands of Scotland,” Celeste answers. Harry looks at her in surprise, nodding. “Any more than that?” Vernon continues. “No one really knows more than that,” Cel replies, her eyes flick to her aunt, “It’s to keep the students safe.” Vernon huffs, “And where does this train leave?” Cel winces as Harry pulls out their tickets, “Platform nine and three-quarters at eleven o’clock.” Their uncle stares at them, “Platform what?” Harry swallows, “Nine and three-quarters.”

“Don’t talk rubbish,” Uncle Vernon barks back, “There is no platform nine and three-quarters.” Harry frowns, “It’s on our tickets.” Vernon shakes his head, “Barking, howling mad, the lot of them. You’ll see. You just wait. All right, we’ll take you to King’s Cross. We’re going up to London tomorrow anyway, or I wouldn’t bother.” The Potters share a glance, then Cel asks, “Why are you going to London?” wanting to keep things a bit friendly.”Taking Dudley to the hospital,” Uncle Vernon growls, “Got to have that ruddy tail removed before he goes to Smeltings.” The twins wince, nodding then heading back up to their rooms. Both checking and rechecking that everything is in their trunks before heading to bed. Mrs. Figg, after hearing that Cel was going off to school and could bring her cat, gave her a nice black collar with her initials engraved on it and a cat carrier. Neither of which Aquila is too thrilled about.

The Potters wake up early at five o’clock, being too excited and nervous to go back to bed. Harry let Cel have the bathroom first, as both want to make the best first impression. After their showers, both put on their best clothes. They check their trunks again, made sure their familiars are in their cages and happy, or as much as they can be, then pace waiting impatiently fro the Dursleys to wake up. Two hours later, the Potter’s huge, heavy trunks are loaded into the Dursleys’ car. Aunt Petunia has even talked Dudley into sitting next to them. Cel who’s sitting right by her cousin tries hard not to touch him as they drive off.

They reach King’s Cross at half-past ten. Uncle Vernon dumps the Potters’ trunks onto carts, having Dudley take Cel’s as he takes Harry’s into the station. Both thought this was strangely kind until Uncle Vernon stopped dead, facing the platforms, grinning nastily, “Well, there you are. Platform nine—platform ten. Your platform should be somewhere in the middle, but they don’t seem to have built it yet, do they?” He’s quite right, of course. There’s a big plastic number nine over one platform and a big plastic number ten over the one next to it, and in the middle, nothing at all. “Have a good term,” Uncle Vernon sneers, with a nastier smile. Then he and Dudley leave the Potters without another word. When they drive away, they’re laughing all except Aunt Petunia.

_ What on earth are they going to do?_ The two of them try not to panic. Well, Cel does Harry is already panicking. As he moves to ask a passing guard, Cel stops him. “Remember the Leaky Cauldron? Muggles,” she whispers, “couldn’t see it.” Harry frowns, “Do you have a better idea?” Cel crosses her arms, “Wait for a family of wizards.” Harry huffs, “And what if none come. If they are already…” he trails off seeing a group of people walks behind with, and they hear, “—packed with Muggles, of course—"

The twins spin around, the speaker is a plump woman talking to four boys, all with flaming red hair. Each of them pushing a trunk like the Potters’ in front of him—and they have an owl. Hearts hammering, they follow when the family stops so do they. “Alright here we are,” she says, turning to the boys, “Percy, you go first.” The oldest looking boy, the one with the owl, marches toward platforms nine and ten. Both Potters try to watch but a group of tourists walks by and by the time they’ve passed the boy is gone. “Fred, you next,” the plump woman says. “I’m not Fred, I’m George,” one of them says, “Honestly, woman, you call yourself our mother? Can’t you _tell_ I’m George?”

“Sorry, George, dear,” she says fondly. The boy smirks, “Only joking, I am Fred,” said the boy, then breaks into a run vanishing as soon as he hits the wall his twin right behind. They nearly gape before looking at the clock, ten minutes. “Excuse me,“ Cel says, walking up to the plump woman. “Hello dears,” she replies with a smile, glancing at Harry then Cel, “First time at Hogwarts? Ron’s new, too.” pointing at the last and youngest of her sons, a tall, thin, gangling with freckles, big hands and feet, and a long nose. “Yes,” Harry replies as Cel smiles at Ron, “The thing is—the thing is, we don’t know how to—” She smiles, “How to get onto the platform?” she kindly finishes. Both Potters nod. “Not to worry,” she continues, “all you have to do is walk straight at the barrier between platforms nine and ten. Don’t stop and don’t be scared you'll crash into it, that’s very important. Best do it at a bit of a run if you’re nervous. Go on, go before Ron.”

“Er—Okay,” Harry replies, looking at his sister before aligning himself with the barrier. _This was going to go very bad, _is his mind’s mantra. The little girl beside the nice plump woman smiles at him, “Good luck.” _Stars, am I going to need it._ Then he breaks into a run before he can think better of it. He swallows as it looms closer, _it looks really solid._ He prepares himself for the crash, but it doesn’t come. He opens his eyes, a scarlet steam engine is waiting in front of him next to a platform packed with people. Looking at the platform number he grins, platform nine and three quarters. He moves away, patiently waiting for his sister. Her eyes are closed, as she appears. “Hey Cel,” he says, smirking as she sighs in relief. “I told you to wait for a wizarding family,” is his sister’s response, because of course. Harry chuckles, and together they move away, casting a quick glance behind them seeing a wrought-iron archway where the barrier was.

Smoke from the engine drifts over the heads of the chattering crowd. Cats of every color wound their way around between feet. Owls hoot to one another in a disgruntled sort of way over the babble and the scraping of heavy trunks. The first few carriages were already full of students, some hanging out of the windows to talk to their families, some fighting over seats. The twins' grin at each other before pushing their carts down the platform in searching for empty seats. They pass a round-faced boy saying, “Gran, I’ve lost my toad again.” The old woman sighs, “Oh, _Neville_.” A boy with dreadlocks is surrounded by a small crowd, “Give us a look, Lee, go on.” The boy lifts the lid of a box in his arms, and the people around him shriek and yell as something inside pokes out a long, hairy leg. The Potters continue until they find an empty compartment near the end of the train. Harry puts Aquila and Hedwig inside first before the twins try to work together to heave the trunks in.

_ It was too heavy…_ Both of them together could barely lift one end high enough to get into the train, then if they did they dropped it on their feet twice. “Want a hand?” a kind voice asks, they look up, seeing its one of the redhead twins. “Yes, please,” Cel replies, panting, she tried to do one side by herself, Harry laughed. “Oy, Fred! C’mere and help!” With help from the other set of twins, they manage to get both trunks into the corner of the compartment. “Thanks,” Cel replies, holding up her hair with one hand and pushing her sweaty bangs from her eyes at the same time as her brother. “What’s that?” one of them asks suddenly, pointing to the matching scars. “Blimey,” begin the other, “Are you—?”

“They are,” the first twin continues, “Aren’t you?” he adds. “What?” Harry asks, suddenly self-conscious. “Hadrian & Celeste Potter,” the redhead twins chorus. “Oh, them,” Harry mutters. Cel glances at him, turning to the other set of twins, “Yes, we are.” The boys gawk at them, and both twins turn rather red. Then, to Harry’s relief, a voice comes floating in through the train’s open door. “Fred? George? Are you there?”

“Coming, Mum,” with one last look at the Potter twins, the redhead twins hop off the train. Cel and Harry sit by the window across from each other, as Cel releases her cat who curls up on her lap, grateful to be free of the atrocious crate. Though they’re half-hidden, they can see the red-haired family on the platform and hear what they are saying. Their mother takes out her handkerchief, “Ron, you’ve got something on your nose.” The youngest boy tries to jerk out of the way, but she grabs him and begins rubbing the end of his nose.

“Mum—geroff,” he says as he wriggles free. “Aah, has ickle Ronnie got somefink on his nosie?” one of the twins mocks. “Shut up,” Ron mutters, crossing his arms. “Where’s Percy?” their mother asks. “He’s coming now,” someone says as the older boy came striding up, already changed into his uniform and robes, both Potters notice a shiny silver badge on his chest with the letter _P_ on it. “Can’t stay long, Mother,” he begins, “I’m upfront, the prefects have got two compartments to themselves—”

“Oh, are you a _prefect, _Percy?” one of the twins says with an air of great surprise, “You should have said something, we had no idea.” The other chimes in, “Hang on, I think I remember him saying something about it. Once—” The other nods, “or twice—” back to the second, “a minute—” to the first, “All summer—”

“Oh, shut up,” Percy the Prefect says, nearly making the Potter twins burst into laughter.”How come Percy gets new robes, anyway?” asks one of the twins. “Because he’s a _prefect_,” their mother says fondly, “All right dear, well, have a good term—send me an owl when you get there.” She kisses Percy on the cheek and he leaves, then she turns to the twins, “Now you two—this year, you behave yourselves. If I get one more owl telling me you’ve—you’ve blown up a toilet or—"

“Blown up a toilet? We’ve never blown up a toilet,” one of them says interrupting her. “Great idea, though, thanks Mum,” continues the other. “It’s not _funny_. And look after Ron.” The youngest turn scarlet as one of the twins grins at him, “Don’t worry, ickle Ronniekins is safe with us.” He glares at him, “Shut up.” Ron is almost as tall as the twins already and his nose is still pink where his mother had rubbed it. “Hey, Mum, guess what? Guess who we just met on the train?” The Potter twins look wide-eyed at each other before scooting back in the seats, to not be seen. “You know that black-haired boy and the redhead girl who was near us in the station? Know who they are?”

“Who?” their mother asks. “The Potter twins!” they both say and the little girl speaks up again, “Oh, Mum, can I go on the train and see them, Mum, oh please…” the mother shakes her head, “You’ve already seen them, Ginny, and the poor children aren’t something you goggle at in a zoo. Are they really, Fred? How do you know?” one of the twins glances at the train, “Asked them. Saw their scars. It’s really there—like lightning.” The mum gasps, “Poor _dear__s_—no wonder they were alone, I wondered. They were ever so polite when they asked how to get onto the platform.”

“Never mind that, do you think they remember what You-Know-Who looks like?” one of the twins asks. “I forbid you to ask them, Fred. No,” their mother says sternly, “don’t you dare. As though they need reminding of that on their first day at school.” Shaking her head. “All right, keep your hair on.” A whistle sounds causing the Potters to jump. “Hurry up!” their mother says, and the three boys clamber onto the train. They lean out the window for her to kiss them good-bye and their younger sister begins to cry. “Don’t, Ginny, we’ll send you loads of owls,” one of the twins say, then the other, “We’ll send you a Hogwarts toilet seat.”

“_George_!” their mother exclaims. “Only joking, Mom,” he says, winking. The train begins to move, and the Potter’s see the boys’ mother waving and their sister, half laughing, half crying running to keep up with the train until it gathers too much speed, then she falls back simply waving. “That would be so difficult,” Cel says, as they watch the mother and daughter disappear as the train turns. “What?” Harry asks, frowning at his sister. “Knowing you were going somewhere I couldn’t,” she responds, hardly meeting her brother's eyes. He moves beside her, “Cel, sis, we’re stuck together you and me. No matter what.”

“And what if we go to different Houses at school, where we’ll never be at each other's side and rivals,” Cel asks finally looking at him. Harry kisses her forehead, “Even then.” She sniffs, “I’m going to hold you to that.” He chuckles, “I know, you always do.” Cel laughs too but hits him in the chest anyway Both jump when the door of the compartment slides opens and the youngest red-headed boy comes in. “Anyone sitting there?” he asks, pointing to the seat Harry just left, “Everywhere else is full.”

Both Potters shake their head and the boy sits down. He glances at them but quickly looks out the window, pretending he didn’t. Cel sees he still has the black little mark on his nose, “Hey, Ron.” The twins are back, “Listen, we’re going down the middle of the train—Lee Jordan’s got a giant tarantula down there.” Ron shudders, “Right.” The redhead twins glance at the Potters, “Did we introduce ourselves?” The fraternal twins shake their heads, amused. “Fred and George Weasley. And this,” one of the continues, “is Ron, our brother. See you later, then.”

“Bye,” the three first years say and the twins slide the compartment door shut behind them. “Are you really Hadrian and Celeste Potter?” Ron blurts out. The twins nod, he looks surprised, “Oh—well, I thought it might be one of Fred and George’s jokes. And have you really got—you know…” he points to his own forehead. Cel and Harry share a glance, chuckling before pulling back their bangs, showing their matching lightning bolt scars. Ron stared, “So that’s where You-Know-Who—?” he doesn’t say more, or he thinks better of it. “Yes,” Celeste replies, “but neither of us remembers it.”

“Nothing?” Ron asks eagerly. Cel swallows and Harry answers, “Well, we both remember a lot of green light, but nothing else.” Ron whistles, “Wow,” and stares at them for a few moments before realizing what he’s doing and looking out the window again. “Are all your family wizards?” Harry asks, finding Ron fascinating. “Er—yes, I think so,” Ron replies, slightly surprised, “I think Mum’s got a second cousin who’s an accountant, but we never talk about him.”

“So you must know loads of magic already,” Harry continues excitedly. Cel rolls her eyes, _so might you if you’d talked to me…_ “I heard you went to live with Muggles,” Ron says, ignoring Harry’s statement, “What are they like?” Harry snorts, “Horrible,” earning himself an elbow in the ribs. Ron chuckles as Harry glares at her, “Well, not all of them. My uncle and cousin are though. Wish we’d had three wizard brothers.” Cel rolls her eyes, _I don’t._

“Five,” Ron responds becoming gloomy, “I’m the sixth in our family to go to Hogwarts. You could say I’ve got a lot to live up to. Bill and Charlie have already left—Bill was head boy and Charlie was a Quidditch captain. Now Percy’s a prefect, Fred and George mess around a lot, but they still get really good marks and everyone thinks they’re really funny. Everyone expects me to do as well as the others, but if I do, it’s no big deal, because they did it first. You never get anything new, either, with five brothers. I’ve got Bill’s old uniform, Charlie’s old wand, and Percy’s old rat.”

Ron pulls out a sleeping fat gray rat from inside his jacket, Aquila perks up immediately, hissing at it. Ron sends the cat a dark look before continuing, “His name’s Scabbers and he’s useless, he hardly ever wakes up. Percy got an owl from my dad for being made a prefect, but they couldn’t aff—I mean, I got Scabbers instead.” His ears had got all pink, seeming to think he told too much because he returns to looking out the window.

Neither thinks there’s anything wrong with not being able to afford an owl, or anything really. But while Cel is uneasy about him, mostly because he glared at Aquila, Harry deems Ron to be his first friend and decides to tell him everything, well expect about the cupboard. He told him about never having money themselves, both having to wear their cousin's old clothes, which Ron snickered at, glancing at Cel, and never getting proper birthday presents. Apparently, the story of their misfortune cheers up Ron. Cel decides that he’s Harry’s friend, and not hers because honestly, a person becoming happy hearing their story isn’t someone she wants to be around. “… and until Hagrid told us, we didn’t know anything about being a witch and wizard or about our parents or Voldemort—” Ron gasps interrupting Harry’s rant…. story, “What?”

“_You said You-Know Who’s name_!” Ron says, sounding both shocked and impressed, “I’d have thought you of all people—” Harry crosses his arms, “I’m not trying to be _brave_ for anything, saying the name. I just never knew you shouldn’t. See what I mean?” Cel rolls her eyes again, _you know not too, Harry. You just don’t care_, beginning to feel like this will be her new thing if this keeps up. Harry trying to cozy up with people, acting more naïve then he is… “We’ve got loads to learn… I bet,” Harry adds, “I bet we’re—” he glances at his sister, who’s glaring at the outside, “I’m the worst in the class.”

“You won’t be,” both Ron and Cel say together, the latter falling silent continuing her watch of outside, allowing Ron to continue, “There’s loads of people who come from Muggle families and they learn quick enough.” Cel nods in agreement, causing her brother to glance at her worriedly, “You okay, Cel? I’m sorry I didn’t mean to…” _upset you,_ goes unsaid but both twins know. “It’s okay, Harry, I’m okay.” Ron perks up a bit, “You go by Harry not Hadrian?” Cel chuckles as Harry groans, “Yes, I’ve always disliked my name, Cel came up with it,” smiling at his sister trying to ease her.

“Cel?” Ron asks, lifting an eyebrow. “Well, Celeste tends to be a mouthful so…” Harry says with a laugh, winking at his sister. Ron chuckles, nodding along and the trio falls silent watching fields full of cow and sheep pass by. Around half-past twelve there’s a great clattering outside in the corridor, startling the first years as a smiling, woman with dimples slides back their door, “Anything off the cart, dears?” The twins leap to their feet as Ron’s ears go pink once more muttering that he’d brought sandwiches. Harry motions that he’ll get it before going into the corridor.

As neither Potter ever had enough money for candy with the Dursleys, now that they had pockets full of gold, silver, and bronze. Harry was ready to buy them both as many Mars Bars as they could carry. Only the problem was the woman didn’t have Mars Bars. What she did have was Bertie Bott’s Every Flavor Beans, Drooble’s Best Blowing Gum, Chocolate Frogs, Pumpkin Pasties, Cauldron Cakes, Licorice Wands, and a number of other strange things neither Potter had ever seen in his life. Not wanting him and his sister to miss anything, he got some of everything enough for the trio to share.

Cel’s eyes widen almost comically as her brother puts it all onto an empty seat. “Hungry, are you?” Ron asks staring hungrily at the treats. “Starving,” Harry replies, taking a large bite out of a pumpkin pasty. “We didn’t have breakfast,” Cel adds, watching Ron take out a lumpy package and unwrapping it, revealing four sandwiches. He pulls one of them apart wrinkling his nose, “She always forgets I don’t like corned beef.” Cel nudges Harry, who nods holding up a pasty, “Swap you for one of these. Go on—”

“You don’t want this, it’s all dry,” Ron says, his eyes wide, “She hasn’t got much time,” he adds quickly, “you know with five of us.” Cel tosses it to him, “Go on, have a pasty.” Though the twins shared everything or tried to at least, it was nice to share with someone else too. Cel begins to think that maybe she judged him too quickly, and starts warming up to him as they eat their way through all the pastries, cakes, and candies (the sandwiches lay forgotten).

“What are these?” Harry asks holding up a pack of Chocolate Frogs, “They’re not _really_ frogs, are they?” starting to feel as if nothing will surprise him anymore. “No,” Ron answer, smiling slightly, “But see what the card is. I’m missing Agrippa.” Harry frowns, “What?” Ron winces momentarily, “Oh, of course, you wouldn’t know—Chocolate Frogs have cards inside them, you know, to collect—famous witches and wizards. I’ve got about five hundred, but I haven’t got Agrippa or Ptolemy.”

Cel watches Harry unwrap his Chocolate Frog, and pick up the card. It shows a man’s face, who has half-moon glasses, a long, crooked nose, and flowing silver hair, bread, and mustache. Underneath the picture is his name: Albus Dumbledore. “So _this_ is Dumbledore!” Harry exclaims. “Don’t tell me you’d never heard of Dumbledore!” Ron says, rolling his eyes, smiling slightly when Cel laughs, “Can I have a frog? I might get Agrippa,” Cel nods, grabbing two and tossing him one. Ron nods, “Thanks.” Harry chuckles, turning the card over and reading:

=-~-=-~-=-~-=

ALBUS DUMBLEDORE

-~-~-~-~-

CURRENTLY HEADMASTER OF HOGWARTS

Considered by many the greatest wizard of modern times,

Dumbledore is particularly famous for his defeat of the

dark wizard Grindelwald in 1945, for the discovery of the

twelve uses of dragon’s blood, and his work on alchemy

with his partner, Nicolas Flamel. Professor Dumbledore

enjoys chamber music and tenpin bowling.

=-~-=-~-=-~-=

“He’s gone!” Harry exclaims after turning the card back over. “Well, you can’t expect him to hang around all day,” Ron says shrugging, “He’ll be back. No, I’ve got Morgana again and I’ve got about six of her… do you want it? You can start collecting.” Ron’s eyes stray to the pile of Chocolate Frogs waiting to be unwrapped. Harry and Cel chuckle. “Help yourself,” Harry said, taking the card. “In the Muggle world, you know, people just stay in photos,” Cel says, chuckling at her brother as he stares at the card in wonder.

“Do they? What, they don’t move at all?” Ron asks, _“Weird!”_ Dumbledore sidles back into the picture, giving the Potters a small smile. Ron becomes more interested in eating the frogs than the cards, but Harry can’t keep his eyes off them. Soon he has not only Dumbledore and Morgana, but Hengist of Woodcroft, Alberic Grunnion, Circe, Paracelsus, and Merlin. Cel now had all those too as there were doubles. Finally tearing his eyes away from the druidess Cliodna, who’s scratching her nose, Harry opens a box of Bertie Bott’s Every Flavor Beans.

“You want to be careful with those,” Ron warns, nodding to the box, “When they say every flavor, they _mean_ every flavor—you know, you get all the ordinary ones like chocolate and peppermint and marmalade, but then you can get spinach, liver, and tripe. George reckons he had a booger-flavored on once.” Cel crinkles her nose as Ron picks up a green bean, looking at it carefully and bit into a corner, “Bleaaargh—see? Spouts.” Despite Cel's disgust, they had a good time eating them. Mostly laughing at the others’ facial expressions, so they tried to go as over the top as possible.

The countryside now flying past the window became wilder. The neat fields gone, replaced by woods, twisting rivers, and dark green hills. Cel found it beautiful, staring at it until being startled by the door sliding open once more. The round-faced boy the Potters had passed talking to his gran enters, looking tearful, “Sorry, but have you seen a toad at all?” They shake their heads and the boy wails, “I’ve lost him! He keeps getting away from me!” Cel pulls Aquila closer as Harry sympatrically says, “He’ll turn up.” The boy nods, sounding miserable, “Yes, well, if you see him…” then leaves.

“Don’t know why he’s so bothered,” Ron states, “If I’d brought a toad, I’d lose it quick as I could. Mind you, I brought Scabbers, so I can’t talk.” Cel feels her warmth for the boy waning, as he glances at the still snoozing rat on his lap, “He might have died and you wouldn’t know the difference. I tried to turn him yellow yesterday to make him more interesting, but the spell didn’t work. I’ll show you, look…” he rummages around in his trunk and pulls out a very battered-looking wand. It's chipped in places with something white glinting at the end.

Ron notices their stare, “Unicorn hair’s nearly poking out. Anyway—” he clears his throat, raising his wand… only to pause as the compartment door slides open again. The toadless boy is back, with a girl already wearing her new Hogwarts robes. She has bushy brown hair and rather large front teeth. “Has anyone seen a toad? Neville’s lost one,” she asked in a rather bossy sort of voice. “We’ve already told him we haven’t seen it,” Ron says, rolling his eyes. The girl, though, wasn’t listening, her brown eyes on his wand, “Oh, are you doing magic? Let’s see it, then.” Sitting down next to Cel. Ron glances at the Potters, taken aback, “Er—all right,” clearing his throat again.

_“Sunshine, daisies, butter mellow,_

_Turn this stupid, fat rat yellow.”_

Waving his wand, but nothing happens. Scabbers stays gray and fast asleep.

“Are you sure that’s a real spell?” the girl says, “Well, it’s not very good, is it? I’ve tried a few simple spells just for practice and it’s all worked for me.” Ron scoffs, giving Harry a ‘can you believe her’ look as she continues, pulling out her own wand. “For example,” pointing her wand at Harry. Well, at his glasses, _“Reparo,”_ Harry’s eyes widen as the tape that was wrapped around the bridge of his glasses disappears. She smirks with his surprise, Cel chuckling beside her, “Nobody in my family’s magic at all, it was ever such a surprise when I got my letter, but I was ever so pleased, of course, I mean, it’s the very best school of witchcraft there is, I’ve heard. I’ve learned all our course books by heart, of course, I just hope it will be enough—I’m Hermoine Granger, by the way, who are you?”

“I’m Ron Weasley,” Ron mutters. “Harry Potter,” Harry says as Cel smiles at her, “and Celeste Potter.” Hermione's eyes widen, “Are you really? I know all about you, of course—I got a few extra books for background reading, and you’re in _Modern Magical History_ and _The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts_ and_ Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century_.” Harry swallows, “We are.” Cel rolls her eyes, “Yes, we are.” Hermoine grins, “You read up too?” Cel nods, sideglancing at her brother, “I wanted to find out everything I could,” Harry huffs.

“Do any of you know what house you’ll be in?” Hermoine asks, “I’ve been asking around, and I hope I’m in Gryffindor, it sounds by far the best; I hear Dumbledore himself was in it, but I suppose Ravenclaw would be too bad… anyway, we’d better go and look for Neville’s toad,” Hermoine continues, smiling at Neville before glancing at the three, “You better get changed, you know, I expect we’ll be there soon.” As she turns to leave, she stops, turning to Ron, “You’ve got dirt on your nose, did you know?” She says, pointing to it, “Just there.” then leaves with the toadless boy.

“Whatever house I’m in, I hope she’s not in it,” Ron huffs, throwing his wand back into the truck, “Stupid spell—George gave it to me, bet he knew it was a dud.” Any warm feelings Cel had for him disappeared with that sentence. “What house are your brothers in?” Harry asks, interested. “Gryffindor,” Ron replies, gloomy again, “Mum and Dad were in it, too. I don’t know what they’ll say if I’m not. I don’t suppose Ravenclaw _would _be too bad, but imagine if they put me in Slytherin. There isn’t a single witch or wizard who went bad who wasn’t in Slytherin. You-Know-Who was one.”

“You-Know-Who went to Hogwarts?” Harry swallows. Ron nods as Cel bristles, her eyes narrowed, “I heard Slytherin produces some of the best witches and wizards because ambition is one of their traits. As well as resourcefulness, cunning, determination, leadership, cleverness, and community. Being evil isn’t one of them. The greatest sorcerer known to both Muggle and magical, Merlin himself was one. I think one would be lucky to be in Slytherin.” Ron scoffs, leaning forward, “Maybe in older times. But now it’s filled with evil, blood-purist extremists.” Harry glances between them both, swallowing, “You know, I think the ends of Scabbers’ whiskers are a bit lighter, Ron,” wanting to ease the tension. Ron glances at the rat and shrugs as Cel blows her hair out of her face.

“So what do your oldest brothers do now that they’ve left, anyway?” she asks trying to go back to friendly terms for Harry, who sighs gratefully. “Charlie’s in Romania studying dragons and Bill’s in Africa doing something for Gringotts,” Ron replies, “Did you hear about Gringotts? It’s been all over the _Daily Prophet_, but I don’t suppose you get that with Muggles—someone tried to rob a high-security vault.”

“Really? What happened to them?” Harry asks. “Nothing, that’s why it’s such big news. They haven’t been caught. My dad says it must’ve been a powerful Dark wizard to get round Gringotts, but they don’t think they took anything, that’s what’s odd. ‘Course, everyone gets scared when something like this happens in case You-Know-Who’s behind it.” The Potters run this through their minds. Both were starting to get a prickle of fear every time You-Know-Who was mentioned. Harry thought that it comes with entering the magical world, but both were more comfortable saying ‘Voldemort’ without worrying.

“What’s your Quidditch team?” Ron asks, trying to get the twins out of their minds. “Er—we don’t know any,” Harry confesses for them both. “What!” Ron looks dumbfounded, and both Potters thought that this might be a sin for him, not knowing Quidditch teams. Ron shakes his head, “Oh, you wait, it’s the best game in the world—” then he was off explaining all about the four balls and the positions of the seven players, describing famous games he’d been to with his brothers and the broomstick he’d like to get if he had the money. He’s just taking to Harry, Cel had stopped listening by then having read a book about Quidditch, through the finer points of the games when the compartment door slide opens yet again, but it wasn’t the lady with the sweets, or Hermione Granger, or the toadless Neville.

Four boys enter, and the Potters instantly recognized two of them as the pale blond and dark-haired boys from Madam Malkin’s robe shop. The dark-haired boy was looking at them with more interest then he had in Diagon Alley. The blond looked interested too but also like he had been dragged to come with his dark-haired companion as he was busy trying to fix his hair. “Is it true?” the dark-haired boy asks, “They’re saying all down the train that the Potter twins are in this compartment. So it’s you, is it?”

“Yes,” Harry replies, crossing his arms and staring at the two unknown boys. Both of them are thickset, looking extremely mean, and as they’re flanking the other two look like bodyguards. “Oh, this is Crabbe and this is Goyle,” the dark-haired boy says carelessly, noticing the Potters eyes on them. Then he pats the pale boy on the back, “My cousin…” The blond narrows his eyes at him, “Draco Malfoy.” His cousin ignores his glare, smirking, “And my name’s Lestrange, Caelum Lestrange.”

Ron coughs, probably hiding a snicker, causing Caelum Lestrange’s eyes to narrow at him, “Think our names funny, do you? No need to ask who you are. I’ve heard all about the redhaired, freckled Weasleys who have more children then they can afford,” he turns to Harry and Cel, “You’ll soon find out some wizarding families are much better than others, Potters. You don’t want to go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there.” sticking out his hand for either of them to shake, but Harry doesn’t take it.

“I think I can tell who the wrong sort are for myself, thanks,” he replies coolly. Draco smirks, glancing at his cousin who’s cheeks darken, “I’d be careful if I were you, Potters, unless you’re a bit politer you’ll go the same way as your parents. They didn’t know what was good for them, either. You hang around with riffraff like the Weasleys and that Hagrid, and it’ll rub off on you.”

Both Harry and Ron stand up, but Lestrange and Malfoy’s eyes are elsewhere. Aquila hisses at them for angering his mistress, causing Ron and Harry to look at the young Potter. Their eyes widening, as her eyes are alight, her hair dancing with magic. “Say that again, please?” she says darkly, her eyes solely on Lestrange, “I don’t think I heard you right.” The boys in the compartment swallow before three of the boys, Crabbe, Goyle and Lestrange run out only Malfoy stays behind. His mouth opens then closes before swallowing, “I wanted to apologize for what happened in Madam Malkin’s, and well,” he glances at his retreating cousin and smirks before looking back at the Potters, “for now too.”

“Is this because of who we are or because you’re actually sorry,” Harry says, crossing his arms. Malfoy’s jaw tightens, “It was before I knew who you were, Potter. My cousin was and is out of line, and…” his eyes flick to Cel, “somethings shouldn’t be said.” Harry scoffs, “No matter how true you think they are?” Malfoy looks at him, “Whatever you wish to think, Potter. Either way, take the apology as it is or not, I’ve done my part, the rest is yours. See you around Potters,” his eyes flick to Ron, trying not to sneer, “Weasley,” then he slips out.

Harry crosses his arms muttering, “Unbelievable,“ under his breath as his sister gathers her things to change then runs after him Aquila on her heels. “Wait,” she calls, pleased he isn’t as far as she feared. Malfoy freezes before turning around to face her. “I’m sorry for my brother,” she says, stopping next to him, “his temper gets the best of him.” He nods, watching her carefully, “Start over?” Cel asks. A smile threatens, “Draco Malfoy.” Cel doesn’t hide hers, “Celeste Potter, it is nice to meet you.” His eyes widen when she holds out her hand. Malfoy takes it, shaking it lightly before, as his father drilled into him, kissing it with a blush. Cel smiles at him, blushing slightly too before parting.

“You’ve met Malfoy and Lestrange before?” Ron asks once Cel leaves. Harry nods explaining what happened in Diagon Alley as they change so when she returns they’re all dressed. “I’ve heard of their family,” Ron asks darkly, and Cel sighs, _still on this, are they?_ “in fact, I’m surprised that Lestrange is even allowed here, his parents are in Azkaban.”

“Azkaban?” Harry asks. “The wizard prison, Harry,” Cel answers, “only the worst go there.” Ron nods, “They got sent for life after You-Know-Who disappeared, but I guess the Malfoys took him in. They were some of the first to come back to our side after You-Know-Who disappeared. Said they’d been bewitched. My dad doesn’t believe it. He says Malfoy’s father didn’t need an excuse to go over to the Dark Side.”

“That might not be the case anymore, though,” Cel states, crossing her arms, “You heard him apologize to us for his horrible cousin.” Ron glances at her, “Yeah. I heard him trying to cover for them both.” Cel rolls her eyes huffing when Harry nods with him in agreement. _Well, Harry has found someone to agree with him on everything,_ she looks out the window seeing that is was beginning to get dark. One could see mountains and forests under a deep purple sky. _Simply beautiful._“We will be reaching Hogwarts in five minutes’ time,” says a voice that echos through the train “Please leave your luggage on the train, it will be taken to the school separately.”

Aquila being the brilliant cat he is, gets back into his cage while Hedwig hoots when both Potters pet her, trying to reassure themselves. After petting both one last time, they join Ron in heading out and joining the crowd thronging the corridor. The train slows right down, then finally stops. People push their way toward the doors and out onto a tiny, dark platform. The twins shiver in the cold night air, before seeing a lamp come bobbing over the heads of the students, grinning when they hear a familiar voice: “Firs’ years! Firs’ years over here! All right there, Harry? Cel?” They smile at him, “Hey Hagrid.” and Ron’s jaw drops, “Bloody Hell.”

Ron’s inelegant sentiments are echoed through the first years as the giant booms, “C’mon, follow me—any more firs’ years? Mind yer step, now! Firs’ years follow me!” They follow, slipping and stumbling down what seems to be a steep narrow path. Nobody spoke much, though Neville sniffs occasionally. “yeh’ll get yer first sight o’ Hogwarts in a sec,” Hagrid calls back over his shoulder, “jus’ round this bend here.”

“Oohs!” echo through the crowd of first years as the path opens up onto the edge of a great black lake. Perched atop a high mountain on the other side, its windows sparkling in the starry sky, is a vast castle with many turret and towers. “No more’n four to a boat!” Hagrid calls, pointing to a fleet of little boats sitting in the water by the shore. Hermione joins the Potters and Ron in their boat.

“Everyone in?” Hagrid shouts in his own boat. They see his eyes move over the first years before nodding, “Right then—FORWARD!” The fleet of little boats move all at once, gliding across the lake, which is as smooth as glass. Everyone is silent, staring up at the great castle overhead. It towers over them as they sail nearer and nearer to the cliff on which it stands.

“Heads down!” Hagrid yells as the first boats reach the cliff; they all bend their heads as the little boats carry them through a curtain of ivy that hides a wide opening in the cliff face. They’re carried along a dark tunnel, which seems to be taking them right underneath the castle until they reach a kind of underground harbor, where they scramble out onto rocks and pebbles.

“Oy, you there! Is this your toad?” Hagrid yells, checking the boats as the first years climb out. “Trevor!” Neville cries blissfully, holding out his hands. Chuckles echo around before they scale-up a passageway in the rock after Hagrid’s lamp, coming out at last onto smooth, damp grass right in the shadow of the castle. They walk up a flight of stone steps and crowd around the huge, oak front doors. “Everyone here?” Hagrid exclaims, counting heads before pointing to Neville, “You there, still got ter toad?” When he nods, Hagrid turns and raises a gigantic fist, knocking on the door three times.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're on our way to Hogwarts. Celeste and Ron will have an interesting relationship. I always felt that Ron can be a jerk, and personally no one I'd be friends with. So Celeste is basically my insert. Draco is very different in this series, as you can see, he's grown up with Bellatrix's son, Caelum, who's too much like his mother. So he knows first hand of living with a jerk and a bully.  
Which house will Celeste be sorted into? I'll try to update this every Tuesday.  
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Thanks for reading! I hope ya'll enjoy it and sorry for any mistakes. Positive feedback is greatly appreciated!


	7. The Sorting Hat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It is time for the sorting ceremony, what Houses will the Potter twins be sorted into?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Italic are thoughts*  
*Underlined and italicized words are books*  
~ Happy Reading! ~

Chapter 7 | The Sorting Hat

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The door swings open immediately, revealing a tall, black-haired witch in emerald-green robes. She has a very stern face and seems to be someone not to cross. “The firs’ years, Professor McGonagall,” Hagrid says. “Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here,” she replies, pulling the doors open wider. The entrance hall is so big the Dursleys’ house could fit into it. The stone walls are lit with flaming torches like the ones at Gringotts, the ceiling too high to make out, and a magnificent marble staircase led them to the other floors.

The first years follow Professor McGonagall across the flagged stone floor. They could hear the drone of hundreds of voices from a doorway to the right, where the rest of the school is waiting but Professor McGonagall shows them into a small, empty chamber off the hall. All forty-eight students crowd in, standing closely together than they would have normally done, peering around nervously.

“Welcome to Hogwarts,” Professor McGonagall says, peering at the anxious first years, “The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory, and spend free time in your house common room.

“The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history, and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your house points, while any rulebreaking will lose house points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the house cup, a great honor. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours.

“The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting,” she ends, her eyes lingering for a moment on Neville’s cloak, which is fastened under his left ear and on Ron’s smudged nose. Both Potters try to fix their hair, Cel into a low ponytail and Harry trying to flatten his. “I shall return when we are ready for you,” Professor McGonagall continues, “Please wait quietly,” then she leaves.

“How exactly do they sort us into houses?” Harry asks Ron, swallowing. “Some sort of test,” Ron replies, “I think. Fred said it hurts a lot, but I think he was joking.” Harry’s heart jolts, _a test? In front of the whole school? But none of us know any magic yet—what on earth are they having us do?_ He looks around sighing, slightly relieved, as the others look nervous, some downright terrified. Harry glances at his sister who’s whispering with Hermione Granger about spells they might need. Harry rolls his eyes, _typical Cel, always prepared._ He’s glad that Cel’s made a friend, _hopefully._ Ron is stiff beside him, both of them trying to ignore the girls. Any second now, and Professor McGonagall will return to take them to their doom. Several people behind him scream, causing the four to jump. “What the—?”

Harry’s jaw falls open, gasping with the others. About twenty ghosts stream through the back wall. Pearly-white and slightly transparent, they glide across the room talking, arguing, to one another, hardly glancing at the startled first years. What looks like a fat little monk says, “Forgive and forget, I say, we ought to give him a second chance—”

“My dear Friar,” a ghost wearing a ruff and tights interrupts, “haven’t we given Peeves all the chances he deserves? He gives us all a bad name and you know, he’s not even a ghost—I say, what are you all doing here?” he exclaims, noticing the first years. Nobody answers, just stares. “New students!” the Fat Friar exclaims, smiling around at them, “About to be Sorted, I suppose?” Cel and a few others nod mutely. “Hope to see you in Hufflepuff!” the Friar continues, “My old house, you know.”

“Move along now,” a feminine sharp voice says, “The Sorting Ceremony’s about to start.” Professor McGonagall gives the ghosts a sharp look and one by one the ghosts float through the opposite wall. “Now, form a line,” McGonagall tells them, “and follow me.” Harry swallows, his legs feeling like lead as he gets into line behind Cel who’s behind a sandy-haired boy with Ron right behind him. The twins hold hands, squeezing the other’s hand as they walk out of the chamber, back across the entrance hall, only letting go once they reach another pair of double doors. The doors open on their own to the Great Hall.

The Great Hall is just as splendid as Cel imagined. It is lit by thousands of floating candles floating in midair over four long tables, where the rest of the students are sitting. Each table center has a long fabric cloth in green, yellow, blue, or red, and set with glittering golden plates and goblets. At the top of the hall, up three steps is another long table where the teachers sit, overlooking their pupils. The ghosts are interwoven through the tables with the students, all their eyes eagerly following the young first years. Harry, wanting to avoid seeing the staring eyes, looks up, gasping when he sees the ceiling or doesn’t see as it’s like there isn’t one at all. “It’s bewitched to look like the sky outside,” he hears Hermione whisper, “I read about it in _Hogwarts, A History_.”

Professor McGonagall leads the first years in between the yellow and blue tables, up to the staff table. They all stand swallowing nervously, some shuffling, as they now face their peers, their backs to the Professors. In front of them, a four-legged stool appears which Professor McGonagall places a dirty, patched, ragged old wizard’s hat.

_ Maybe we have to try to pull a rabbit out of the hat,_ Harry thinks amusedly, he stifles a snort looking around to see if anyone noticed. Now noticing that everyone in the hall is staring at the hat he follows suit. For a few seconds, there’s complete silence. Then the hat twitches, a rip near the brim opens wide like a mouth—and the hat begins to sing:

_“Oh, you may not think I’m pretty,_

_But don’t judge on what you see,_

_ I’ll eat myself if you can find_

_A smarter hat than me._

_You can keep your bowlers black,_

_ Your top hats sleek and tall,_

_For I’m the Hogwarts Sorting Hat_

_And I can cap them all._

_There’s nothing hidden in your head_

_The Sorting Hat can’t see,_

_So try me on and I will tell you_

_Where you ought to be._

_You might belong in Gryffindor,_

_Where dwell the brave at heart,_

_Their daring, nerve, and chivalry_

_Set Gryffindors apart;_

_You might belong in Hufflepuff,_

_Where they are just and loyal,_

_Those patient Hufflepuffs are true_

_And unafraid of toil;_

_Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,_

_If you have a ready mind,_

_ Where those of wit and learning,_

_Will always find their kind;_

_Or perhaps in Slytherin_

_You’ll make you real friends,_

_Those cunning folk use any means_

_To achieve their ends._

_So put me! Don’t be afraid!_

_And don’t get in a flap!_

_You’re in safe hands (though I have none)_

_For I’m a Thinking Cap!”_

The full hall bursts into applause once the hat is done. It bows to each of the four tables, before going still again.

“So we’ve just got to try on the hat,” Ron whispers, “I’ll kill Fred, he was going on about wrestling a troll.” Harry smiles weakly, _yes, trying on the hat is a lot better than what I was imagining. But why do we have to put it on with everyone watching…!_ He glances at his unimaginably pale sister without thinking, he grabs her hand and gives it a reassuring squeeze. He grins when she relaxes, smiling weakly at him. _I don’t know why she’s worried, she’ll be great in any of them._

Professor McGonagall now steps forward, holding a long roll of parchment and picks up the hat, “When I call your name, you will sit on the stool and I will place the Sorting Hat on your heads to be sorted into your houses. Abbot, Hannah!” A pink-faced girl with blond pigtails stumbles out of line and sits down, Professor McGonagall then places the hat on her head which falls right down over her eyes. there’s a moment’s pause. “HUFFLEPUFF!” the hat shouts. The yellow table on the right cheers and claps as Hannah goes to sit with them at the empty end of the table, that Harry just noticed. The Potters even see the Fat Friar waving merrily at her. “Bones, Susan!” McGonagall calls. “HUFFLEPUFF!” the hat shouts again, and Susan scuttles off to sit next to Hannah. “Boot, Trevor!”

“RAVENCLAW!” the blue table to the left claps this time; several even standing to shake hands with their new housemate. “Brocklehurst, Amanda!” goes to Ravenclaw too but, “Brown, Lavender!” becomes the first Gryffindor, and the red table on the far left explodes with cheers; the Potter could even see the Weasley twins catcalling. “Bulstrode, Millicent,” becomes the first Slyteirin and the green table claps politely as she joins. By the time, “Finch-Fletchley, Justin!” goes to “HUFFLEPUFF!” the twins start to notice that with some the Hat shouts the name at once but with others, it takes a bit more time. Like “Finnigan, Seamus,” the sandy-haired boy next to Cel, sits on the stool for almost a whole minute before the hat declares him Gryffindor.

“Granger, Hermione!” Cel smiles as her hopefully friend almost runs to the stool and watches the hat sink unto to her head. “GRYFFINDOR!” the hat shouts after a minute or so. Hermoine grins, hopping off the stool before basically skipping to the Gryffindor table. Ron groans and Cel smirks, _Serves you right._ The Sorting Hat doesn’t even touch Lestrange’s head before yelling, “SLYTHERIN!” the dark-haired boy smirks, before staggering towards the green table. When “Longbottom, Neville,” is called, the boy who lost his toad falls over on his way to the stool. The hat takes a long time to decide and when it shouts, “GRYFFINDOR!” he runs off still wearing it, having to jog back amid gales laughter to give it to Professor McGonagall before she calls, “MacDougal, Morag,” who goes to Gryffindor as well.

Malfoy swaggers forward when his name is called, sitting on the stool. It takes a few seconds for the hat to scream, “SLYTHERIN!” His eyes flick to Cel’s as he moves to join his cousin, Crabbe, and Goyle at the green table. Harry’s stomach tightens as Professor McGonagall gets closer to the P’s. “Moon,” …, “Nott,” …, “Parkinson,” … then a pair of twin girls, “Patil” and “Patil,” …, then “Perks, Sally-Anne.” Then, “Potter, Hadrian!” Cel squeezes his hand before letting go as he steps forward. All chatter in the Hall stops, then starts, “_Potter_, did she say?”

“_The _Hadrian Potter?” Professor McGonagall’s eyes flick behind the still waiting first years, meeting the twinkling eyes of the Headmaster. He is rapt with attention, his eyes following the Potter boy to the stool. Cel’s eyes stay solely on her brother as the hat is placed on his head. She tries to control her breathing, wondering… tense but it only takes the hat a few moments to yell, “GRYFFINDOR!” She swallows, her eyes flicking to the red table which bursts into the largest cheer yet. Harry smiles reassuringly at her before joining the red table, grinning at his new housemates. Percy Weasley gets up and shakes his hand vigorously as his brothers chanting, “We got a Potter!”

Professor McGonagall waits for the cheers to end before calling, “Potter, Celeste!” The hall falls deathly silent, wondering if Gryffindor will claim both Potters. Cel sits down, closing her eyes as the hat slips over them. Harry’s eyes are solely on his sister, eagerly awaiting its decision. _The hat takes longer to decide than with me_, he notes, _but my sister is brave, brilliant, and kind._ He swallows _and determined…_ There’s a hush when the hat yells, “SLYTHERIN!” then the students in green and silver stand, clapping louder than they have for the others. Undecipherable whispers break out but the Gryffindors stay silent, everyone’s eyes following the redhead to the table of snakes.

Cel ignores them, smiling at each of her new housemates before sitting by Nott. No Slytherin speaks either, just staring in slight awe of the undisturbed Potter as Professor McGonagall silences the hall so she can continue. Ron shouldn’t have worried as the Hat bare touches his head before yelling, “GRYFFINDOR!” When the last to be sorted sits with his House table, Slytherin, Professor McGonagall rolls up her scroll, taking the Sorting Hat and stool disappears.

Albus Dumbledore then stands, beaming at the students, his arms open wide as if nothing pleases him more than to see them all here, “Welcome! Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are Nitwit! Bubbler! Oddment! Tweak! Thank you!” As the headmaster sits down the hall burst into cheers and applause.

“So,” Malfoy begins, looking at the youngest Potter with interest, “welcome to the house of snakes.” Cel chuckles, “Nice to be here,” smiling slightly at the looks of shock. “Do you really have the scar?” the girl across from her, who in her opinion looks like a pug, asks. She nods, parting her bangs and the pug girl wrinkles her nose, “It’s horrid.” Cel shrugs, beginning to fill her plate with the variety of food that appeared after the headmaster sat down.

“Did you really go live with Muggles?” an older boy sneers. “I do, my aunt and her husband and son. Do you have a problem with it?” Cel asks pointedly. “I wouldn’t get on her bad side, Warrington,” Malfoy adds, smirking at the older boy who asked. “We wouldn’t dream up it, Malfoy, because she’s one of us,” replies an older blond girl with a prefect badge gleaming on her robes she pointedly looks at the table, “Right?” The table nods and the boys on either side of Cel grin, before talking to Malfoy. 

The pug-faced girl huffs, sniffing and pointedly ignoring Cel when she glances at her. So she turns to the last new girl, introducing herself with a reassuring smile. “I’m Sophie Roper,” she sniffs, “I’m Muggleborn.” The table falls silent. “Really?” one asks watching the brunette witch, she nods. “Wow,” another one says, “I think you may be our first Muggleborn.” Someone else nods, “I think so too, but like what Calhoon said Miss Potter is one of us, and so are you now. We take care of our own.” Most everyone nods, expect the pug-faced girl and Lestrange before everyone returns to their conversations.

Celeste chuckles, her eyes flicking around the table, taking note of who she might trust, and who not too. The pug-faced girl is a definite no, but her friends may be okay. Lestrange is a flat out no, she’ll be polite to him but nothing more. In fact, even that might be pushing it. Her eyes flick across the hall to her brother’s table, seeing him locked in conversations with most of the table, and a flash of pain moves through her. _I hope you can keep your promise, Harry._ Then her eyes flick to the staff table, she finds an assortment of eyes already on her, Professor McGonagall, Professor Dumbledore, and a greasy raven-haired man with sallow skin and a hooked nose talking to Professor Quirrell. The young professor is wearing an odd purple turban around his head, his head pointed away from her. A pain shoots through her scar, causing tears to gather in her eyes. “Hey, you alright?” Malfoy asks, somehow now across from her, seeing her rubbing her scar.

Cel nods, her eyes on the now curious raven-haired professor. “Oh, that’s Professor Snape,” Malfoy says, following her eyes, “he’s our Head of House. The other Houses say he favors us, he does in public but he’s known to be harsh if you step out of line.” Her eyes flick to him, “What does he teach?” Malfoy smirks, “Potions, but he favors Defense Against the Dark Arts.” She hums before sinking into a conversation with Sophie as desserts appear. Both chatting away about the differences in the two worlds they now belong to, the curious boys around them listening in.

At last, the desserts too disappear, the hall falling silent as Professor Dumbledore raises to his feet once more. “Ahem—just a few more words now that we are all fed and watered. I have a few start-of-term notices to give you. First years should note that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. And a few of our older students would do well to remember that as well,” he pauses his eyes flashing to the Weasley twins, “I have also been asked by Mr. Filch, the caretaker, to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors. Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of term. Anyone interested in playing for their house teams should contact Madam Hooch. And finally, I must tell you that this year, the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death.”

There is laughter from a few at that, Harry one of them. “He’s not serious?” he mutters to Percy. “Must be,” he replies, frowning at the Headmaster, “it’s odd because he usually gives us a reason why we’re not allowed to go somewhere—the forest’s full of dangerous beasts, everyone knows that. I do think he might have told us, prefects, at least.” Then he stops, Dumbledore continues, “And now, before we go to bed, let us sing the school song!” The other teachers’ smiles seem rather fake as Dumbledore gives his wand a little flick like there’s a fly on the tip of it he’s trying to get off, and a long golden ribbon flies out of it, which rises high above the tables and twists itself, snakelike, into words.

“Everyone pick their favorite tune,” Dumbledore cries, “and off we go!” And the school bellows:

_“Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts,_

_Teach us something please,_

_Whether we be old and bald_

_Or young with scabby knees,_

_Our heads could do with filling_

_With some interesting stuff,_

_For now, they’re bare and full of air,_

_Dead flies and bits of fluff,_

_So teach us things worth knowing,_

_Bring back what we’ve forgot,_

_Just do your best, we’ll do the rest,_

_And learn until our brains all rot.”_

Everyone finishes at different times, the Weasley twins the last ones sing to a very slow funeral march. Dumbledore conducts their last few lines with his wand, and when they finished, he clapped the loudest. “Ah, music,” he says, wiping his eyes, “A magic beyond all we do here! And now, bedtime. Off you trot!”

Celeste manages to catch a glimpse of her brother as the first year Slytherins follow Calhoon and a brunette boy up the marble staircase then through a door to the right, leading to a set of stone stairs. The temperature drops the deeper they go, causing the full and sleepy first years to shiver. The stairs led them to a corridor that they hurry down before stopping in front of a bare stretch of the stone wall. “Domus Prius,” Calhoon says, loud enough for the first years to hear. There are a few gasps as a hole appears in the center, gradually getting bigger just like the entrance to Diagon Alley. It reveals a corridor that Calhoon leads them through, stopping in a massive green-tinged room. “The Slytherin House common room,” Calhoon says simply then boy, Derick Avery, “It has been our pride that no outsider has been in our common room for seven centuries, you will do well to continue it.”

The Slytherin common room has a grand atmosphere filled with lavish leather green couches and chairs. There’s a large ornate fireplace with a fire that warms the entire room. Cel gasps as she looks up, much like the Great Hall ceiling, there looks to be no roof, but instead of stars, it's open to the lake as they see fish swim by. Avery leads the boys through a door on the opposite side of them. Calhoon watches them before leading the six girls through the other, which leads to a circular staircase. She stops outside of the first door they come across, with a silver snakelike one glistening on it. That’s where Calhoon leaves them, outside their dormitory.

Inside, they find six four-poster beds hung with silk green and translucent silver curtains. Each girls’ trunk is at the foot of a bed, but there isn’t much complaining about beds as each girl changes into their pajamas to tired to argue. Aquila is curled up on the bed on the right closest to the door, breaking into a purr as his mistress slips under the silken covers. She barely notices that the ceiling is open to the lake above as she immediately falls asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How many of you guessed correctly? Lol. Poor Professor Snape has to teach Lily's mini-me. I've loved the idea of Hermione in Slytherin, a muggle-born among prejudice purebloods. But as this is a rewrite, I couldn't necessarily change her House, so Sophie Roper became a Slytherin muggle-born. From here it will focus a bit more on Celeste and the Slytherins as things on Harry's side mostly stay the same.  
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Thanks for reading! I hope ya'll enjoy it and sorry for any mistakes. Positive feedback is greatly appreciated!


	8. The Potions Master

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Italic are thoughts*  
*Underlined and italicized words are books*  
~ Happy Reading! ~

Chapter 8 | The Potions Master

-~=~-~=~-~=~-

Celeste rolls her eyes after she wakes up, hearing the whisperings of her dormmates, the pug-faced girl and her three friends. “Awake, are you?” the pug girl sneers, “I don’t care who you are or if you're famous, but I’m the Queen Bee.” Cel barely spares her a glance, “I’m not here to cause you any problems, Parkinson.” Pansy Parkinson smirks, “Good, I’d hate for you to get on my bad side already.” Cel rolls her eyes out of view of the girls before gathering her clothes, heading into their shared bathroom. After a nice refreshing shower, she braids her hair before dressing, noticing that her tie is now green and silver, and the hood of her robe green with a silver and green snake badge. Reentering the dorm, she grins seeing a green and silver scarf inside her trunk. Aquila rubs himself against her, and she bends down to pet him before leaving and heading to the common room.

“Potter,” Malfoy grins as she enters. Cel lifts an eyebrow, “Yes, Malfoy?” He winces slightly, “Draco, please.” The brunette boy with blue eyes that she sat next to after her sorting, snickers beside him, “Theodore Nott,” extending his hand for her to shake, which she politely does. “Theo to my friends,” he adds after kissing her hand with a wink. Cel blushes as the other boy, dark-skinned with black hair and hazel brown eyes, smirks, “Blaise Zabini,” extending his own hand and doing the same as Theo and Draco. “But Blaise to you. Drake here speaks highly of you, Potter.” Cel eyes widen, flicking to the blond boy who’s now glaring at Blaise, “Oh really? What about?”

“About how you stood up to Caelum,” Theo says. “Oh that,” Cel nearly whispers. “Yes, oh that,” Draco replies, motioning for her to follow, “Not many people can stand up for themselves to my cousin, even fewer that actually frighten him.” Blaise snorts, “Honestly, there isn’t anyone I know he is frightened of. So, you’re one of a kind, Potter,” winking at her. “Celeste or Cel, please,” she chuckles, rolling her eyes. “Is that what your brother calls you? Cel?” Draco asks. She nods, “It is.” Theo snorts, “Then we best not call you that.” Cel frowns, glancing at him, “Why?” Blaise cuts in, “You do know about the rivalry between Slytherin and Gryffindor, right?”

“I suspected, you think my brother and the others would dislike you calling me that?” Cel asks, shocked and worried now. “Maybe,” Theo replies, “what other names you go by?” The young Potter shrugs, “No others. My middle name is Lillian after my mother, but I’ve never been called by that. We never spoke about our parents. We didn’t even know how they died until our eleventh birthday.” The three boys whistle lowly. “I’m sorry, Red,” Blaise replies, putting his arm around her shoulder. Draco wrinkles his nose, “Not Red,” he glances at her, “Lily, like your mom.” Cel grins at him, before narrowing her eyes causing the blond to swallow, “What are you doing?” Theodore laughs, “Being your friend, Lily.”

The four walk to the Great Hall for breakfast, where the boys then lead the conversation. Apparently, the three boys all grew up together as their parents are old friends. A throat clears behind them, and the four falls silent, swallowing as they turn. “Good morning, Professor,” Lily chirps, smiling at the somber raven-haired Potions master. Professor Snape’s black eyes scrutinize her, “Miss Potter, I presume. Enjoying the house of snakes?” To his amazement, she smiles, “Yes, Professor,” she glances at the trio of boys, “I seem to already have some friends.”

“For the first time in my life,” he hears her mutter. His interest peeks, “Looking forward to your classes?” A sparkle enters her eyes as she nods, one so reminiscent of another he once knew, “Yes, sir. I’ve read every coursebook at least twice.” He lifts an eyebrow, glancing at the impressed boys, “Then I look forward to having you in Potions, Miss Potter. The first-year schedule,” handing the four sheets of parchment, “pass them to your year-mates.” The boys groan, as their eyes survey it. “Double History of Magic to start the week,” Theo exclaims. “Ending with Charms,” Draco adds, earning a glare from Theo. “At least we only have Potions with the Gryffindors,” Blaise adds, smirking at Professor Snape, “Yes, I’m sure it will be enlightening. Be sure not to be late to class.” A soft, “Thank you, Professor,” halts him for a moment before he hurries off.

The four first years are later joined by Sophie, and Lily is glad that the trio of pureblood boys welcomes her with no problems as they begin asking questions about the Muggle world. Both girls nearly scream, the boys laughing at their expressions, as the Hall fills with owls, a grey Eagle-owl drops off a letter and a package to Draco. “Mother wrote,” Draco says, seeing the questioning glances of the girls, “and sent some of your favorites,” looking at the boys. “At least we’ll have something to look forward to today,” Blaise huffs, smirking when he hears the girls laugh. Then the five get up to gather their things for History of Magic and Charms.

“History of Magic is the most boring class to be taught!” Blaise complains as they’re on their way to lunch. “I thought it was interesting,” Sophie pipes up. “The Ravenclaws sure thought so,” Lily adds, and the two girls break into giggles, the boys rolling their eyes. “I can’t believe that we have seven years of Professor Binns,” Theo huffs. Oh yes, Professor Binns, the only ghost Professor at Hogwarts. “Rumor has it that he fell asleep in the Teachers’ lounge and died of boredom,” Draco adds. Cel rolls her eyes, lightly hitting him, “Hush Draco.” The blond winks at her, “As you command.” The boys snicker, seeing her slight blush.

At lunch, Draco shares his mother’s treats with the four and with his cousin, who sticks his nose up but takes one anyway. As they know they’re likely to get lost, they leave earlier than the others. Professor Flitwick smiles at them, his eyes lingering on Lily a bit longer than the others. When class starts, Lily and Sophie eagerly write notes, squealing when the small professor makes Aquila fly through the room as he’s taken to following his mistress everywhere. After class, the Hufflepuff girls come over, introducing themselves so they can pet Aquila. As they’re now free, they hurry to the Slytherin Dungeon. The girls check each other's notes, making sure they got everything as Draco writes to his mother and the boys play a game.

“Lily?” a voice calls, pulling the young Potter from her notes. She curiously looks at Draco, “Yes?” He holds up his letter, “Want to go to the Owlery with me?” She nods, gathering some owl treats from her dorm before hurrying to follow the Malfoy heir. “Are you not going to write to your family?” Draco asks as they go, frowning when she winces, “I’m not sure they want to hear from me.” The young preteen frowns, “Why not?” Lily glances at him, “My uncle doesn’t like magic and my aunt… well, I don’t know if it’s wanted.” He knocks into her shoulder, “Would it hurt to try?” Lily shakes her head, “No. I don’t think it will.”

Once they get to the Owlery, a Snowy Owl flies down with the grey Eagle Owl, hooting softly. “Hello Hedwig, how are you?” Lily says, giving her brother’s owl a treat before turning to the Eagle Owl and Draco, “What’s his name?” The blond smirks at her, “Altair, the finest owl there is.” Lily chuckles moving closer, “Pretty name for a noble owl. Does he like treats?” Draco laughs, “He loves them,” taking one from her to feed Altair. He manages to soothe him enough to allow Lily to pet him. “Your owl?” Draco asks, nodding to Hedwig, once Altair disappears into the sky with his letter.

“My brother’s,” Lily replies, returning her affection to the beautiful Snowy Owl, “Aquila is my familiar,” continuing pointing down at the grey cat watching the owls’ overhead. Draco nods, “Come on, nearly dinner.” Lily laughs before she and Aquila follow her new friend. Dinner is full of laughter and glares by Parkinson and her friends who still have yet to say a word to her. That first day she falls asleep with a smile.

-~=~-~=~-~=~-

The next day is much the same, join the boys and Sophie for breakfast and go over the schedule for the day. Draco gets a response from his family and another package of sweets that they return to the common room to pick up the books for today’s classes. Transfiguration is the first-class of the day. The Head of Gryffindor House looks pointedly across the pupils, a mix of Ravenclaw and Slytherin. “Transfiguration is some of the most complex and dangerous magic you will learn at Hogwarts,” she begins the class, “anyone messing around in my class will leave and not come back. You have been warned.” Then with a flick of her wand, she changes her desk into a pig and back again. The class fills with whistles, all eager to start.

Of course, it isn’t that easy or simple and a long way off so instead they take detailed, complicated notes. “Next class, I will be handing out matches for you to turn into a needle. Good day,” McGonagall dismisses them, her eyes on Miss Potter eagerly speaking to her friend about the class. As they near the greenhouses, they pass the Gryffindors. Harry waves at his sister before being elbowed by Ron, who glares at the students in green. Lily blinks owlishly, causing the trio of boys to growl lowly as Sophie puts an arm around her shoulder continuing their walk to Herbology. Professor Spout gives them all a big smile as they enter.

“Ron, why did you do that?” Harry exclaims inside the castle. “We don’t talk to Slytherins, Harry,” the redhead says easily. “She’s my sister!” Harry adds, frowning at his friend. Ron shrugs, “Your house is your family now, Harry. You saw her with Malfoy and the others. Won’t be long before they corrupt her too.” Harry huffs, crosses his arms as they head to Charms, “You’re just upset that Professor McGonagall threatened to turn us into a pocket watch and a map because we were late yesterday.” Ron grumbles, falling silent, flicking his eyes back towards the Slytherins.

The girls find Herbology fascinating, like everything else, and are glued to every word Professor Sprout says then it's to lunch and Defense Against the Dark Arts after. Professor Quirrell’s classroom smells like garlic, enough to make everyone’s eyes water. It’s also the first class the girls think is boring, the boys snicker at that. They overhear rumors that he even covers himself in garlic because a vampire is after him. Lily parts from them, heading to the Library. After a few wrong turns, and asking some portraits for directions, Cel finally finds it. Sadly, all the tables are full except one with a familiar face, Lily grins, sitting at that table.

“Hey, Hermione,” Lily greets, smiling at the Gryffindor, who jumps. “Celeste! What are you doing here?!” Lily frowns, “It’s the library… Do you not want me to sit here?” Hermione blinks, before shaking her head, “No, sorry. You’re just the only one who’s talked to me yet and you’re from…” she trails off. “Slytherin,” Lily finishes for her, rolling her eyes the Gryffindor doing the same, “Well, I haven’t changed just because I’m wearing green and silver. Honestly, this whole house rivalry is ridiculous. Ron wouldn’t even let my brother wave at me.” The Gryffindor’s eyes widen, “Really? But he’s your brother!?” Lily nods, “I know. But he wears red and I, green. So, I’m the enemy now.”

“I’m sorry,” Hermione states. “It’s whatever,” Lily says, shrugging, “though I wish Harry would think for himself. Anyway, what are you working on?” The Gryffindor grins, “A Magical Theory Essay and studying for a Herbology quiz on Thursday, you?” Lily whistles lowly, “Lovely a quiz. Making sure my History of Magic notes is right,” her head tilts, “I haven’t even had Theory yet. Is it interesting?” Hermione nods, “Yes. It’s fascinating. So, History of Magic? We haven’t had it yet… Is it good?” Lily shrugs, “The boys find it boring, but Sophie and I find it interesting, but we are the only ones who grew up with Muggles, so…” Hermione smiles slightly, “Is she a Muggle-born?” Lily nods and Hermione’s eyes widen, “In Slytherin?!” The young Potter nods again, and Hermione shakes her head in disbelief. Both bookworms start on their work, not noticing the curious Professor whose head is tilted as they ponder on what they’ve seen. There they stay until the Slytherin boys and Sophie come to retrieve Lily for dinner. To the girls’ amazement, the boys simply dip their heads to the Gryffindor.

-~=~-~=~-~=~-

Herbology is more notetaking, and Professor Spout adds that there will be a short quiz on Thursday. Transfiguration is next and the class is eager to begin turning their matches to needles. By the end, a few made a difference to their match, but Lily had the most as it became silver and both pointed and sharp. Professor McGonagall gives her a rare smile and five points to Slytherin.

Of course, she gives them homework, to write how one turns a match into a needle and another match that she charms so she knows that they succeed in turning it into a needle. After lunch it is Charms, where Professor Flick goes over _“Reparo.”_ He gives them another essay for homework, to write two paragraphs on what they could use _“Reparo,”_ on. The boys grumble about it as Lily leads them to the library, to work on homework and study. After dinner, all first-years go to the highest tower for Astronomy, that once again the girls are fascinated by. Cel is put off by Harry not speaking to her once for three days now but she tries to reason it away when she heads to bed.

-~=~-~=~-~=~-

“Have you studied for the quiz, Celeste?” one of Parkinson’s friends asks, surprising both Sophie and Lily. The two girls nod, looking at the blond girl. “Can we,” she begins, glancing at the other girl still in the room, “Tracey and I, look over your notes before.” Sophie crosses her arms causing the girl to swallow, “I’m Daphne Greengrass, and I’m sorry for not saying anything earlier but I’ve been friends with Pansy since we were toddlers, and…” Lily shares a look at Sophie, “You can study with us if you like. We’re joining Draco, Blaise, and Theo.” Daphne nods, “Thank you, I really don’t want to fail my first quiz of the year, or any really.” The boys eagerly let the two in, having grown up with Daphne as well.

They study together at breakfast before heading to Magical Theory. Hermione is right, it’s perhaps the most interesting, as there’s no magic to do but it’s about the creation of spells. After they head to Defense, where they’re assigned yet another essay, then they’re off to lunch. Daphne and Tracey join them for a last-minute studying session as they eat before their Herbology quiz. After the quiz, Professor Sprout assigns them more homework Daphne and Tracey join them dinner to discuss. Parkinson growls when she notices but otherwise ignores Sophie and Lily as they return to the dormitories.

-~=~-~=~-~=~-

“I thought I told you that I’m the Queen Bee here, Potter,” Pansy growls waiting for Lily. “I have no interest in taking your place, Parkinson,” Lily replies, gathering her things for Potions, “If you have a problem with it, you could always join us too.” Pansy crinkles her nose, “And be under your rule,” she sniffs, “No.” Lily rolls her eyes, “I’m not the leader, Pan…” Pansy glares at her, “Parkinson. We’re friends.” She huffs, and Lily shakes her head before leaving for breakfast.

“Ready for Double Potions with the Gryffindors?” Draco asks, walking with her as the others are gone. “I am,” Lily replies, “I wonder if that’ll finally get Harry to speak to me.” Draco snorts, “I still can’t believe he’s let this House rivalry get in between you.” Lily shrugs, “I think his friend had something more to do with it.” Draco glances at her, knocking into her shoulder, “Well, we’re better than Weasley, so I think you won.” A small smile graces his face when she laughs before it disappears.

“Looks like your brother and Weasley finally figured out how to get to the Hall,” Blaise greets, tipping his head to the Gryffindor table. “Took them long enough, it’s Friday,” Draco adds, earning an elbow to the ribs from Lily, “Be nice, we have no idea where the Gryffindor common room even is.” The boys roll their eyes, chuckling at the protective sister before talking about what they’re expecting for Potions.

All conversations briefly halt as Pansy joins, everyone nervously looking at Lily, who smiles at Parkinson, “Looking forward to Potions, Parkinson?” Pansy sniffs before nodding, and the conversations continue until after the mail arrives. “Hey Cel,” Harry says behind Lily, startling his sister who spins around, “Harry! Hi! Stars, you scared me!” Harry chuckles before his eyes flick to the other Slytherins, “Can I talk to you?”

“I don’t know can you, Potter?” Draco sneers, “You haven’t said a word to her all week as it is. Why start now?” Theo snickers, “Maybe he found he needs her after the Herbology quiz and with homework piling up.” Lily turns to glare at them, “Be nice or hush,” before turning to her brother, “Sure, Harry.” Harry grins, before narrowing his eyes at the Slytherins behind his sister’s back.

“How are you okay with them?” Harry asks when they’re out of hearing reach of the group. “They’re my friends, Harry,” Cel replies, rolling her eyes, “Like Ron is yours. Did you just come to talk to me to complain about my housemates?” looking hurt. “No, I—” Harry begins, floundering for words, “Sorry, Cel, I know I haven’t been the best brother this first week has been a…” His sister smiles, “Crazy and amazing, I know.” Harry grins at her, “Anyway, I got this,” handing her a note:

=-~-=-~-=-~-=

Dear Harry and Cel,

I know you both get Friday afternoons off, so would you like to come and have a cup of tea with me around three? I want to hear all about your first week. Send us an answer back with Hedwig.

Hagrid

=-~-=-~-=-~-=

“I already said yes,” Harry says, scratching the back of his head, “Hope that was okay…” Cel sighs, “It’s okay, Harry. Are you ready for Potions?” finishing just Ron walks up, “What are you doing here?” Cel crosses her arms, “Talking to my brother.” Harry rolls his eyes at his friend, “We’re walking together to class.” Ron groans but silently joins the Potter twins. “Potions is in the Dungeons? Gross…” Ron complains. Cel rolls her eyes, “The Dungeons aren’t that bad.” Ron huffs, “Says the Slytherin…” Cel huffs,_ the mighty lion complains._

The Potters set up next to each other on their House sides. Ron sits on Harry’s other side making faces at Cel who ignores him, instead, smiles at her friends as they enter. Professor Snape enters swiftly from his office, his black eyes taking in his class before he takes roll, like Professor Flitwick. He pauses at the twins' names, his eyes focusing on both, “Ah, yes. Hadrian & Celeste Potter. Our new—_celebriti__es_.” He watches the twins who both react differently, Cel with a wince and Harry with a swallow as he continues.

“You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making,” Snape begins, in barely more than a whisper, “As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don’t expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimming fumes, the delicate liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses… I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death—if you aren’t as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach.”

Silence follows this, Harry and Ron share a look, both raising their eyebrows while both Hermione and Cel are eager to begin. “Mister Potter!” Snape says his eyes on Harry, “What would I get if I added, powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?” Harry swallows, glancing at Ron who looks just as stumped as him. “I don’t know, sir,” Harry states, seeing both Hermione and Cel have their hands up. “Tut, tut—fame clearly isn’t everything. Let’s try again, Potter, where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?”

“I don’t know, sir,” Harry replies, trying not to look at his eager sister and Hermione, or the laughing Slytherins. “Thought you wouldn’t open a book before coming, eh, Potter?” Harry grits his teeth, tempted to say, _Well, I did read but I’m not a know-it-all, sir. But that would hurt Cel and I’ve not been the best brother this week…_ “What is the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane?” Harry thoroughly through with this teacher, crosses his arms, “I don’t know. I think Hermione and Cel do, why don’t you try them?”

A few Gryffindors laugh, and Seamus winks at Harry. Cel gasps in horror,_ what have they done to you, Harry?! You never snap at a teacher!_ Snape’s jaw tenses, _you insufferable brat._ “Five points from Gryffindor House for your cheek, Mr. Potter.” Before his eyes turn to Cel, “Miss Potter, asphodel and wormwood make?” Cel blinks, lowing her hand, “The most powerful sleeping potion there is, Draught of Living Death, Professor,” Cel replies simply, not daring to glance at her brother. “Very good, ten points to Slytherin,” Snape says, mildly impressed, “A Bezoar?”

“A stone found in the stomach of a goat, known to save one from most poisons,” Cel answers without pause, causing the Slytherins to smirk, _we got the smart one._ “Another ten points to Slytherin,” Snape continuing his questions. showing his amazement, “Monkshood and wolfsbane?” Cel smiles, “One and the same, Professor, also known as aconite.” _Incredible, not only is she a mini Lily but she has her brains too, whereas her brother only seems to have their mother’s eyes._ “Yet another ten points to Slytherin,” before turning to the class as a whole, “Well, why aren’t you all copying that down?”

“Know-it-all,” Ron mutters just loud enough for the Potter twins to hear as the class rummages for quills and parchment. Snape frowns as he notices that Miss Potter's face is all red when she writes down her answers. He tries to ignore it by separating the class into pairs to work on a simple potion that’ll cure boils. The pairs, of course, do not pass the House divide especially with this group, both Houses would try to sabotage the other.

Snape makes sure to keep a close eye on those that are next to members of the other House, namely Miss Potter and his godson, Draco who are next to the duo of Weasley and Potter. Once more the Potions master is genuinely impressed, as their potion is basically perfect as he may lose track of himself in how seamlessly they work together. The Potions master shakes his head, _something to write to Lucius. _Clouds of acid green smoke and a loud hissing fills the dungeon. Neville somehow manages to melt Seamus’ cauldron into a twisted blob, and their potion seeps across the stone floor burning holes in shoes. Within seconds, the whole class is on their stools while Neville, who’s drenched in the potion, moans in pain as angry red boils sprang up all over his arms and legs.

_ Another dunderhead,_ Snape growls, clearing the potion away with a flick of his wand, “Finnigan, take him to the hospital wing, quickly,” he snaps, before turning to the class, “That is why you add the porcupine quills after taking the cauldron off the fire! May this be a lesson to you, follow instructions.” Harry crosses his arms, “It’s not our fault!” Snape rounds on him, “Oh? You are correct, Potter, it isn’t your fault, you should have warned him. Or are you now rivals with your Housemates? Another five points from Gryffindor.” Harry opens his mouth to complain, but Ron kicks him behind their cauldron, “Don’t push it. I’ve heard Snape can turn very nasty.”

“Honestly Harry, what is with you?” Celeste asks as they climb out of the dungeons, “You never talk back to teachers.” Harry sighs, “He hates me, Cel, that’s it.” Ron nods, “Yeah, not all of us are insufferable, teacher’s pet, know-it-alls.” Cel glares at him, “Why do I think you have something to do with my brother’s change in behavior, Weasley?” Harry groans as Ron shoots back, “Oh, Weasley is it? Like your Slytherin pals?” Cel growls, “We aren’t friends, and you haven’t given me permission to use your name. So yes, it is Weasley!” She turns to Harry, “I’ll meet you at Hagrid’s, Harry,” before hugging him and walking to the Great Hall.

“Why can’t you just be nice to her, Ron?” Harry continues at the Gryffindor table, watching his friend glaring at his sister, who’s laughing about something with her friends. “She’s Slytherin, Harry, they’re all corrupt!” Ron shoots back, thankfully now eating his food. “Honestly, she isn’t,” adds a voice. Ron narrows his eyes at her, “No one asked you, Hermione.” She sniffs, “Fine,” before turning to her food. “Hermione is right though,” Harry replies, “Cel isn’t a bad person and I’d like for you to at least try to get along with her, Ron. She is still my sister.” Ron huffs, “And what if she starts it?” Harry rolls his eyes, “Cel is known to snap back but never to start, but I’ll talk to her. If it helps, the other Slytherins are free game,” Harry adds with a smirk, before frowning, “Just not around Cel, she’ll stand up for them.”

“I can’t believe I lost ten house points in the first week!” Harry complains. Ron snorts, “Yeah and he gave Cel thirty… Of course, he favors Slytherins… if only McGonagall favors us.” Hermione cuts in again, “You realize that Harry could’ve earned us those points too, right?! And if he hadn’t talked back, we wouldn’t have lost any points.” Ron glares at her and she rolls her eyes, “Honestly, next time don’t be rude to him, he’s our Professor,” before gathering her things and wandering off wherever she goes. “Cheer up, mate,” Ron says, “Snape’s always taking points off Fred and George. Can I come and meet Hagrid with you?” Harry grins, “Sure!”

Cel’s eyes follow Hermione and she waves goodbye to her friends before following her bookworm friend. “I’m sorry, Professor Snape didn’t call on you,” is how she greets her. Hermione shrugs, “After Harry’s little act I can see why he wasn’t okay with giving Gryffindor any points. So…” Cel nods, “Anyway, what did you think of your classes?” Hermione grins and the girls eagerly talk about their week on their walk to and in the library.

“Why did you choose that book?” Hermione asks, glancing curiously at _The Art and Language_ _of_ _Flowers_ in Cel’s hands. “Just curious,” she replies, continuing at Hermione’s frown, “Flowers are a part of Wizarding traditions. Take my nickname from the boys and my mother’s name, Lily. In certain arrangements, it could mean royalty and regal bearing, motherhood and fertility, purity and the beauty of youth, passion and drive, or renewal and rebirth.” She shrugs before seeing Hermione’s shocked look, “What?”

“How do you know that?” Hermione asks. “A school assignment in primary,” Cel shrugs, “we had to look up our full names. So anyway, I was wondering if Snape’s first question to Harry has another meaning.” Hermione’s eyes light up, “I’d forgotten that they were both flowers! Let me know if it does!” Cel nods, “Of course.”

“Well, I must leave you,” Lily sighs, glancing at the clock. Her friend nods, “See you. Homework tomorrow?” Cel smiles, “Absolutely. Is it okay if I bring the others?” Hermione winces but nods, “Sounds good,” then in a soft voice asks, “Can I call you Lily?” Cel smiles, “Of course! And don’t worry, we’ll start small, I’ll just ask Sophie or Draco to come.” Hermione nods and Cel skips off with a new armful of books to read over the weekend. She drops her things at her dorm then heads to Hagrid’s wooden house on the edge of the Forbidden forest.

Cel nearly jumps when she hears frantic scrabbling and several booming barks from inside. “_Back_, Fang—_back_.” Hagrid’s voice rings out before his head appears in the crack as he pulls open the door. He smiles at her, “You’re early. Hang on just a minute,” he looks beside him, “_Back_, Fang.” Then he lets her in, holding back an enormous black boarhound by its collar. The house is only one room, but cozy and warm. Hams and pheasants were hanging from the ceiling, a copper kettle was boiling on the open fire, and in the corner stands a massive bed with a patchwork quilt over it.

“Make yerself at home,” Hagrid says, before releasing Fang who nearly knocks her over as he runs straight at her to lick her face. “Where’s Harry? I thought you’d be comin’ together?” Hagrid asks, sitting down. He frowns when she sighs, “His friend and I don’t get along too well. Today was the first time Harry spoke to me because of your note so thank you,” finishing with a smile. “Really? With how close you were durin’ the trip I thought nothin’ would break yer apart.” Cel looks off sadly, “It’s because I’m in Slytherin and he’s in Gryffindor, home of the brave.”

“That’s rid—” Hagrid begins before there’s a knock on the door. Fang isn’t near as bothered this time, his head comfortably on Cel’s lap. “Hey Hagrid,” Harry chirps as he enters, “This is Ron.” Ron grins at him as Harry searches the hut, grinning when he sees Cel, “You’re here!” Cel’s brows furrow, “I said I’d be…” before her eyes flick to her brother’s best friend. _So much for it being just us,_ “Hey Ron.” The redhead grimaces before giving her a pained smile, “Cel,” he swallows with Harry’s pointed look, “I’m sorry for being a jerk.” Cel snorts, rolling her eyes, “I accept your apology only because you’re Harry’s first friend and I don’t want this to come in between us.” Ron nods and Hagrid glances at the three kids.

“Another Weasley, eh?” Hagrid says glancing at the freckles littering Ron’s cheeks, “I spent half me life chasin’ yer twin brothers away from the forest.” Cel chuckles, petting Fang’s head as the boys join her at the table. Hagrid pours them some tea and places little brown cakes onto a plate, nicknamed rock cakes for reasons unknown. It has nothing to do with the kids' inability to eat them without breaking a tooth. They pretend to enjoy them as they talk about their week, Cel making extra sure not to bring up her friends. Cel rolls her eyes as the boys reach today’s only class, Potions. Thankfully like Ron, Hagrid says that Snape hardly likes any of the students, and for Harry not to worry about it. But Harry can’t let it go, “But he seems to really _hate_ me.” Hagrid replies, “Rubbish! Why should he?” seeming not to be able to look Harry in the eyes before turning to Ron, “How’s yer brother Charlie? I liked him a lot—great with animals.” Both Potters suspect Hagrid changes the subject on purpose. While Ron tells Hagrid all about Charlie’s work with Dragons, the twins notice a cutting from the _Daily Prophet_:

=-~-=-~-=-~-=

GRINGOTTS BREAK-IN LATEST

Investigation continues into the break-in at Gringotts on 31 July, widely believed to be the work of dark wizards or witches unknown.

Gringotts goblins today insisted that nothing had been taken. The vault that was searched had in fact been emptied the same day.

“But we’re not telling you what was in there, so keep your noses out if you know what’s good for you,” said a Gringotts spokesgoblin this afternoon.

=-~-=-~-=-~-=

The twins share a look, remembering that Ron said something about the robbery on the train but not the date. “Hagrid!” Harry exclaims, “that Gringotts break-in happened on our birthday! It might’ve been happening while we were there!” There’s no doubt about it, Hagrid definitely didn’t meet their eyes this time. The giant simply grunts and offers them another rock cake. Cel and Harry reread the story; the vault that was searched had in fact been emptied the same day. They share another glance, mouthing “seven hundred and thirteen.” The vault Hagrid took the last thing from, the grubby little package. _Was that what the thieves were looking for?_ both wonders.

The trio is silent on their way back to the castle for dinner, their pockets loaded with rock cakes they were too polite to refuse. Celeste is focused on what book she’ll begin reading and Ron tries not to aggravate her while Harry is pondering on the article and tea with Hagrid. _Had Hagrid collected that package just in time? Where __is it now? And did Hagrid know something about Snape that he didn’t want to tell them?_

Celeste parts from them with a hug for her brother and a nod to Ron, before moving to the Slytherin table. “You okay, Lily?” Sophie asks, her eyes flicking to the redhead. Lily nods, slipping in beside her, “Yeah, spent some time with Harry and Ron.” Draco perks up, “He didn’t say anything else, did he?” Sophie frowns, “What did he already say?” Draco’s jaw tightens. “An insufferable, teacher’s pet, know-it-all,” Lily replies, looking at her plate, the eyes of her friends immediately glance at her. “What?” Draco exclaims, “When was this?” Lily looks up at them, “Before lunch. It was because I earned thirty points from Professor Snape.”

“Weaselly prat,” Blaise mutters, most everyone nods in agreement. “He apologized, Harry made him,” Lily adds, “I think he doesn’t want me to tell him to find another friend.” Theo snorts, “He should anyway. He’s a jerk.” Lily smiles at them as Sophie hugs her from the side before the topic changes to homework. They all agree to work together tomorrow on the assignments before heading to the Slytherin Dungeon. As a few puts in some early work, mostly corrections on finished work, Lily writes a letter to her aunt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -~=~-~=~-~=~-~=~-~=~-~=~-  
Thanks for reading! I hope ya'll enjoy it and sorry for any mistakes. Positive feedback is greatly appreciated!


	9. Down the Forbidden Corridor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Italic are thoughts*  
*Underlined and italicized words are books*  
~ Happy Reading! ~

Chapter 9 | Down the Forbidden Corridor

-~=~-~=~-~=~-

“Good morning, Harry,” Cel chirps Saturday morning, ignoring the stares of all the tables before turning to Percy, “Is there anything wrong with sitting with another house for meals?” Percy blinks, glancing at the staff table seeing Dumbledore’s puzzled look. The headmaster tips his head, his blue eyes dancing as Percy returns to the youngest Potter. “No there isn’t…” Cel smiles at him before glancing at Harry, “May I join you?” Her brother admires her daring, nodding and making room for her on the bench. As soon as she sits, the hall fills with whispers. “They’re staring, you know,” Harry whispers, his eyes flicking to everyone as Cel simply loads her plate with food. “Let them,” she shrugs, “It’s not like they haven’t been already,” she faces Harry, “and we better get used to it. This will be happening our whole lives. So, I’d prefer to use it.” Harry’s eyes widen, awed by her as she changes the subject, “What’s your favorite?”

“Why did you do that?” Ron asks as the hall begins emptying. “Why not?” Cel replies, “I’ve decided that I won’t let the color of my robes dictate whether or not I should talk to my brother in public.” Harry shakes his head at her, “You are—just wow, sis.” She grins at him, “Why, thank you!” Her eyes flick to the staff table, then the remaining owls, “Oh, can I borrow Hedwig, Harry?” He frowns, “Why?” Her eyes flick to the blond Slytherin before returning to her brother, “I’m sending a letter home actually. Do you want to add anything yourself?” Harry snorts, “No. it’s not worth it, sis, you know they’ll never reply.” Cel looks away, her eyes full of pain, “They might.” Movement catches their attention, Cel’s group of friends start moving toward the door, a few looking at her pointedly. “Well, I better go, I bet they have questions. See you later, Harry,” wrapping him in a hug, before nodding to the redhead, “Ron.” Then she gets up and breezes her way to the doors, ignoring the stares and whispers. “How is she not a Gryffindor?!” Harry hears someone mutter. He secretly agrees, knowing she’s braver than he is.

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Sophie asks, wrapping her in a hug the moment Lily joins them. “You would have tried to talk me out of it,” she replies with a laugh. “As that would work,” Theo snorts. “I said, ‘tried to’ for a reason, Theo,” Lily replies, smirking. “Only been a week and she’s turning into a true Slytherin,” Blaise exclaims, a hand over his heart, sighing dramatically, “How fast they grow!” The group breaks into giggles. “Better watch out, Lils,” Draco begins as they slip into the common room, “or they might start calling you the Slytherin Princess.” Lily rolls her eyes, “They wouldn’t,” watching Blaise and Theo start a wizard’s chess game, something she’s eager to learn. While Pansy pulls her friends away to look at the newest gossip column leaving her with just Draco and Sophie. “Do you mind working in the library with me?” Lily asks, glancing at the two. “With that Gryffindor?” Sophie replies, her head tilted. Lily nods, “Yes. No Gryffindors talk to her… in fact, I think she gets the same treatment as I do from Ron and Harry.”

“And there I thought the lions were meant to be better than us,” Draco scoffs, “Yeah, I’ll go, Soph?” The Slytherin Muggle-born nods, Lily grins and they head off. As Lily suspected Hermione is already there alone, trying to ignore the other students. “Hey Hermione,” she greets, slipping into the chair beside her, “This is Draco Malfoy and Sophie Roper.” The bookworm glances up smiling slightly at the Slytherins, “Hermione Granger, the Gryffindor know-it-all bookworm.” Lily gasps, “They didn’t!” Hermione frowns, “Didn’t what?” Lily’s eyes narrow, “Harry and Ron didn’t call you that, did they?” Hoping she’s wrong but Hermione won’t meet her eyes and she groans, “I should’ve known.” Hermione looks caught before saying in a small voice, “It’s not just them…” Draco stares at her, “Not just them then who all do?” The Gryffindor sniffs, “Everyone.” Lily growls, “Idiots all of them.” Earning a smile from the bookworm in red. “So, do you have any friends?” Sophie asks sitting down. Hermione shakes her head, jumping slightly when Lily wraps an arm around her, “Well, Mia, you have me.” Draco nods, “And now us. A lion in a den of snakes,” smirking at the end, “Our homework will probably be done before it’s assigned now with you two witches.” Hermione smiles as they bring out their schoolwork. They only take a break for lunch.

Harry watches Cel walk in with Malfoy, Hermione and another Slytherin girl that Harry doesn’t know. Malfoy and the unknown girl part from them as Cel and Hermione chat beginning to walk towards the Gryffindor table. “Typical,” Harry mutters, his eyes following Malfoy, “Just what I always wanted. To make a fool of myself on a broomstick in front of Malfoy and Lestrange.” Ron shakes his head beside him, “You don’t know that you’ll make a fool of yourself. Just imagine them making a mistake.” Harry smiles slightly, before frowning, “They were bragging about their skills in Madam Malkin’s before term.” Ron frowns, “Probably just talk, Harry.”

“Thank you,” Hermione whispers as they walk. “No problem, Mia, what are friends for,” Lily grins. The Gryffindor rolls her eyes, “For coming up with nicknames, I guess. Mia,” she snorts, “I don’t even have an ‘a’ in my name.” Lily shrugs, “Thought it was better than Herm or ‘Mione.” Hermione’s head tilts before nodding, “It is, you’re right.” Both freeze noticing the glaring contest the first years Gryffindors are having with the Slytherin table. “I, ah, I should probably sit with them,” Lily mumbles. Hermione nods, “I would too if I didn’t know how much I’d be hassled.” Lily hugs her before she continues to the table.

“Looks like your sister’s Slytherin courage failed,” Ron says, watching Cel walk towards the Slytherin table. There’s a huff from beside Harry, “Or it could be that you and everyone else is glaring at her table, so she’s feeling a bit unwelcome.” Harry tears his eyes away to look at the speaker. Hermione Granger rolls her eyes, “Honestly.” Ron glares at her, “And what were you doing with Malfoy and that Slytherin girl?” he shoots back. “We were working on our homework together in the library. And she is Sophie Roper,” Hermione sniffs before looking away from them.

“What’s with them?” Lily asks as soon as she reaches her friends. “They have their knickers in a twist about flying lessons,” Blaise replies, smirking at the red table. “I’ve been looking forward to that,” Lily exclaims, “Why aren’t they?” her eyes flicking curiously to the table filled with red. “Oh, I bet they are, but they’re paired with us for Thursday afternoons,” Theo replies, crossing his arms. “Neither have you have even been on a broom, have you?” Lestrange sneers sitting beside his cousin, his eyes narrowed at Lily and Sophie. “No, we haven’t,” Lily states matter-of-factly, “But I know my father became Quidditch Captain” Draco looks impressed but his cousin’s eyes narrow further, as Lily smiles at him, continuing, “So, even if I haven’t inherited his skill there’s a high possibility that Harry might,” crossing her arms smugly. Lestrange growls before leaving them in peace. Theo whistles lowly, “Impressive. How did you learn that?” Lily grins, “Hagrid told us when we met, my mum, was Head Girl too.” Blaise chuckles, “Even if they’re both Gryffindor’s that is something to be proud of. The Head Boy and Girl are chosen from the Prefects, and there is only eight per year, a boy and girl from each house so even that’s a rare honor.” Sophie’s head tilts, “When are they chosen?”

“Prefects are fifth year, the year of the O.W.L.s and Head Boy and Girl is seventh year, the year of the N.E.W.T.s,” Draco replies, “Both my parents were Head Boy and Girl in their respective years. The Prefects have their own special lounge and bathroom while the Head Girl and Boy have their own common room and dorms.” Theo snorts, “It’s to stop them from favoring their own house, but they still do.” Sophie’s arms cross, “Probably looking down on Slytherins too,” she mutters, the boys nod. “That’s terrible!” Lily exclaims, “I don’t understand why everyone hates us so much. I’ve even heard whispers this week that I’m the ‘Fallen Potter,’ because I’m in Slytherin!” Blaise’s jaw tightens, “That’s ridiculous if anyone is a ‘Fallen Potter’ it’s your brother. Take like this morning for example,” Blaise continues, “that was more Gryffindor than anything, but do you see the ‘true’ Gryffindor coming and sitting here? No, he’s more interested in glaring at us,” motioning over at her still glaring brother. Lily rolls her eyes, “Come on, let’s go. I can’t take it anymore.” Her friends chuckle and nod, gathering their things and returning to the dungeon.

Hermione ignores Ron and Harry for the rest of the meal, huffing as their eyes are back to the Slytherin table. “What do you think they’re talking about,” Harry asks, watching his sister talk to her ‘friends.’ “I dunno,” Ron says, “Probably the best ways to make us look stupid.” Hermione rolls her eyes _as if you need any help with that._ Her honey brown eyes flick to the Slytherins who are laughing about something then all heading out. _Oh, to have friends like that,_ she thinks darkly, _if only I had Lily’s courage._ Mia was already impressed by her on the train, happy to find a like-minded friend. She was disappointed when she became a Slytherin. Then Potions she admired her and, she’ll admit, slightly jealous. But today, she was blown away by her courage. _So why isn’t she in Gryffindor?_

“So, where did you disappear to earlier?” Blaise asks as he and Theo return to their chess game. “Doing homework in the library,” Lily replies, her eyes taking in the chess game. “Thought we were doing that together?” Theo says, frowning at her but smirking at her awe of the chess pieces waving at her. “We still are, but…” Lily begins nervously. “But she’s befriended a lonely Gryffindor,” continues Draco. “Granger?” Blaise states surprised, “I thought the mighty lions looked after their own.” Lily crosses her arms, “Not if you’re a ‘know-it-all bookworm’ apparently. She’s a Muggle-born, just wanting to prove she belongs here,” Lily sniffs, “It’s why I studied before coming, wanting to prove I belong here too.” Theo frowns, glancing at her than an angry Blaise and Draco, “You both belong here, Lily. Would she be open to more Slytherin friends?”

“I didn’t want to overwhelm her with snakes,” Lily replies, slightly smirking, “Lions are known to attack when afraid.” Theo laughs, “Words to live by, Lily. that and she really can’t be seen with us or her housemates will treat her like they do us.” Lily nods, sighing, “Yeah.” Blaise shoots Theo a glare before grinning at Lily, “So do you want to learn Wizard’s Chess?” The boys grin watching her eyes light up, nodding excitedly, “Yes, please.” Lily pulls Sophie in to learn to, so both girls are eagerly watching until it’s their turn. Draco and Theo are the two best strategists, so Draco helps Lily while Theo helps Sophie against Blaise. The five lose themselves to the game until it’s time for dinner where they’re joined by Daphne, Tracey, Pansy and their newest arrival since Pansy ‘joined’ Millicent Bulstrode.

The nine chat about homework that Pansy’s group has yet to do. They manage to convince Draco, Lily, and Sophie to help them which they agree to do tomorrow. Each secretly planning to charm their papers so they can’t cheat off of them. After dinner, everyone but Draco and Lily returns to the common room. “So, you took my advice?” Draco asks, surprised as she walks toward the Owlery. “I did,” Lily replies, before falling silent the blond following her lead. “Hedwig,” she calls, smiling as the Snowy owl flies down. She gives her some treats, she picked off the table at dinner, “I have a delivery for you.” Hedwig’s wings flutter and Draco watches in slight awe as they interact. “It’s for Aunt Petunia,” Lily whispers, “but make sure Uncle Vernon doesn’t see. Okay?” Hedwig spins her head around, hooting once before gripping the letter.

“Be careful, Hedwig,” Lily whispers, watching her fly away, “Harry would kill me if anything happens to you.” Draco frowns hearing, “Why would he do that?” Lily jumps, startled, “Stars!” her eyes close, “because she is his first meaningful gift, he’s ever gotten from someone that isn’t me.” Draco’s jaw tightens, “Your aunt and uncle never gave you anything?” Lily looks at him in surprise, “Sometimes nothing but if Uncle Vernon remembers we get old things mostly, things that were theirs then mostly junk. Once we got a hanger each,” she chuckles, glancing at him with a smile, “Aquila was my first meaningful gift from a neighbor, then a huge stack of books from Hagrid, so I could read about this magical world I now belong too.” Draco shakes his head in amusement, knowing there’s more that she isn’t saying. But he’ll get it out of her eventually. “Well, you deserve the stars,” he states, smirking when she blushes. “You’re ridiculous, Dray.” A soft smile graces his face, thankful she misses it, noting his nickname. _Hopefully, one of many._ He makes a mental note to write to his mother and to tell the others. _This Christmas will be her best._

When they return to the Slytherin common room, Blaise’s eyes follow Lily to the girls' dormitory door, before flicking to Draco, “What’s up?” The blond pureblood sighs, nearly flopping into a nearby armchair, “Lily doesn’t have a good relationship with her family.” Theo’s brow lifts, “Really? How do you know, Drake?” His silvery eyes flick to the girl’s dormitory door, “They’ve never given her a meaningful gift.” Blaise’s eyes widen, “You mean that the Slytherin Princess isn’t treated like royalty?” Draco chuckles, “Slytherin Princess? I was teasing her!” Blaise smirks, “Oh, I’m making it a thing, especially after the whole ‘Fallen Potter’ thing,” his nose wrinkles, “The school needs reminding that she’s Slytherin, and has the entire Slytherin House behind her.” Theo chuckles, rolling his eyes, before looking at Draco, “And don’t worry Lily has us now.” The trio of boys falls silent as she sits down in between Theo and Blaise. She rests her head on Theo’s shoulder as she reads her book on flowers. Blaise winks at Draco before grabbing her feet and putting them on his lap. _Slytherin Princess indeed,_ Draco thinks, watching Lily glance at Blaise then her feet then Blaise again. He winks at her and she rolls her eyes, leaving her feet there and returning to her book. _And she definitely has us… tied around her finger._

-~=~-~=~-~=~-

“So, it seems, love, that our son has a bit of a crush,” a blond woman states as her husband enters the room. “Why do you say that, dove?” he asks, kissing her on the cheek in greeting. She giggles, shaking her head at him, “Draco has written every day this week about a girl named Lily.” Her husband frowns, “I don’t know any purebloods with that name…” Mrs. Vega Narcissa Malfoy rolls her grey eyes at him, “You wouldn’t, dear.” Mr. Lucius Malfoy looks at her startled, “A mud—” he stops at his wife’s glare, “a Muggle-born?” Narcissa tsks him, “No, love, a new Slytherin who may be familiar to you.” Lucius looks at her puzzled and she grins, “Celeste Potter.” His blue eyes widen, “One of the Potter’s is in Slytherin?” Narcissa nods, “Yes, her brother a Gryffindor.” He snorts, “Figures. I thought both of them would be. But this girl… Lily, he calls her?”

“Yes,” Narcissa replies, “Like her mother,” she picks up her letter, “Draco says not to be upset if he comes in second or third. According to him, Lily may be the brightest witch in their year.” Lucius raises a brow, looking at a letter sent from an old friend, “Severus seems impressed by her too.” Narcissa’s head tilts, “Oh?” Her husband meets her eyes, “In Potions, she apparently answered his questions correctly after only a few minutes to think. Knew Draught of Living Death, knew a bezoar, and the aconite plant. When it came time for their first potion, she worked flawlessly with Draco and their cure for boils was nearly perfect.”

Narcissa’s eyes widen, “Really? I thought he might have been exaggerating. You know his old fondness for her mother.” Lucius nods still reading before smirking, “Apparently yesterday she made a storm by sitting at the Gryffindor table, but remained completely aloof of the attention.” His wife smirks, “Maybe I should take her under my wing. She’d make a perfect Lady Malfoy,” smiling fondly, “and I always wanted a daughter.” Lucius looks at her sadly before both jumps, startled though they’d deny it, by the arrival of Altair.

After he’s let in, he drops the newest letter on Narcissa’s lap before flying back out. Curious Lucius stares at his wife as she reads before seeing her gasp, her hand covering her mouth, and looking up at Lucius. “Her family forgets her, never giving her presents. Draco thinks her uncle hates her…” her tears glisten slightly, “What sort of family did she go to, Lu?” He rises and grabs her hands, “One that doesn’t deserve her,” kissing them both, “but now she has us and Draco.” She blinks, nodding, “Yes, she does.”

-~=~-~=~-~=~-

“I think Professor Snape knew my parents,” Lily greets Hermione as she joins her at the Gryffindor table for Sunday breakfast, “or at least my mum.” Hermione startles only slightly, “Oh? Why you say that, Lils?” The Slytherin pulls out the flower language book, “Asphodel is a type of lily, meaning, ‘My regrets follow you to the grave.’ While wormwood means ‘absence’ or bitter sorrow.” Hermione’s eyes widen, “A lily,” she looks at her friend, “like your mother’s name. So, he could have been saying, “I bitterly regret Lily’s death.” Merlin, Lils, I thought you were reaching but that… wow… Are you going to tell Harry?” Lily glances at her brother down the table, before shrugging, “I don’t know. He already hates him. I was thinking of talking to Hagrid first then maybe to him and, I dunno ask about her maybe, as my aunt never really talks about her.” Hermione nods, “Sounds good,” she knocks into her shoulder, “You okay?” Lily nods, “I wrote to my aunt yesterday.” Hermione frowns, “That’s good, isn’t it?”

“I don’t know if it’s wanted,” Lily mutters, and Hermione’s heart reaches out to her. “I bet she’ll be surprised, right?” Lily laughs, nodding, “Yeah,” before sobering up, “Harry thinks it’s a waste of time.” Hermione sighs, wrapping an arm around her, “Well, at least you tried.” Lily gives her a small smile and a nod before both fall silent. Hermione waves her away to go talk to Hagrid as she heads to the library, shaking her head as she passes Harry and Ron, still talking about those flying lessons. She shudders, _merlin I hate heights. _But she’s determined to blend in, so she asks Madam Pince about books on flying. When she finds them, she moves to an empty hidden table to begin her studies.

“Morning Hagrid,” Celeste greets, swallowing as Hagrid opens the door. The giant frowns slightly before motioning her in, “Any problems, Cel?” smiling when she goes out of her way to pet Fang. “I just have a few questions,” Cel says, sitting down avoiding his eyes. “’Bout what?” She swallows, “My parents,” then looks up at him eagerly and he swallows, “Did Professor Snape know them?” She watches him swallow again before nodding, “He was in their year,” his brow furrows, “Why?” Cel fidgets, “He asked a question that could mean something else.” Hagrid frowns, “What?” She swallows, “He asked a question about asphodel lilies and wormwood. Asking about a highly advanced complicated potion some of us will never learn, Draught of Living Death. I got a book of the language of flowers knowing it’s a big deal in the wizarding world and I think he was saying, ’I bitterly regret Lily’s death.’ So,” she swallows, “I thought he might have known her.” The giant stares at her, slightly awed, “I think they were friends from before… I didn’t think he’d say somethin’ like that…” Cel looks up, her eyes glittering, “Really?! He knew her?!” she brightens, giving him a smile that nearly illuminates the hut, “Thank you, Hagrid!” then gives him a hug before racing out. He chuckles, pleased. _So much like her mum indeed. Maybe it’ll make old Snape liven up…_ he snorts, shaking his head, _honestly the more you know._

Snape growls in his office, hearing a blasted knock on his door. _If it is another dunder…_ he stops his eyes widening as he spots a first year, nearly bouncing on her feet. “Good morning Professor,” she begins, giving him a smile her mother was known for, “I’m sorry to bother you, but…” she swallows, now aware of what she is doing. “Did you know my mother?” she asks, her eyes looking at him determinedly. It’s so reminiscent of her mother that he forgets himself and nods, “I did.” Looking at her odd, _how did she figure it out…_ He tries Legillimens but faces resistance. _Interesting…_ “Why do you ask?” he asks instead. A mischievous sparkle enters her eyes, “Your first question to Harry, Professor. I thought it curious that you asked about such a highly advanced potion, so I looked up what the flowers mean. ’I bitterly regret Lily’s death,’ that’s what you meant, isn’t it?” The young Professor swallows, blown away by this intriguing young witch, “Perhaps,” watching as she smirks. Then she swallows acting suddenly nervous, fidgeting with the edge of her robes, he notes she’s still wearing through its break. Now acting like the eleven-year-old she is, “Can you tell me about her?”

Severus Snape freezes, “What?” Miss Potter chuckles before swallowing, “Aunt Petunia never really talks about her, the only time she’s ever spoken about her was when she yelled at Hagrid for trying to take us to the world that killed her sister.” Severus swallows, “You look like her.” The miniature Lily looks up at him, “You loved her.” Now he stumbles, _how in Merlin’s name?!_ Her eyes search his, “It’s in your voice, a soft adoration and your eyes warm. It’s what my aunt does, trying,” she winces, “trying to hide that she loves us from our uncle.” His brow furrows, _you sent Lily’s children to live with that miserable creature._ He looks at her, startled to realize that she loves her aunt just as her mother did. He vows that he’ll not tear them apart. “Please come it, Miss Potter,” shocked at the smile she gives him as she enters, “Thank you, Professor.” He watches her take in his office. _What would you think of her, Lils, if you could see her? Of the strides she’s already taken to bring Slytherin House out of the darkness it's taken for its own?_ “Making many friends, Miss Potter?” The young Slytherin grins, “Most all of the Slytherin first year expect Lestrange, Crabbe, and Goyle. And there’s a Gryffindor I’m friends with too, Hermione Granger. A Muggle-born her house as basically shunned, my brother, included for being a know-it-all,” her nose wrinkles in disgust.

“Do your Slytherin friends approve?” Snape asks, sounding slightly concerned. “They do,” Lily nods, “Draco and Sophie have already promised to be her friends, the others, well Blaise and Theo, will probably join along. Of course, their friendships with her will be a secret, knowing how the Gryffindors will see it if it isn’t. Hermione doesn’t need it any harder from them.” Snape’s head bobs, “How about you?” Her eyes roll, “I’m the ‘Fallen Potter,’ but everyone knows better to really comment around me or Harry,” she smirks, “Apparently my actions on the train spread.” His brow furrows, “What actions?” Her smirk widens, her eyes shining dangerously, “I scared Lestrange and his cronies, I think Draco has to do with spreading it or Blaise,” she shorts, “Or both.” Then she looks at her Professor, “What was my mum like when she was my age?” He chuckles despite himself, “Fiery and protective of her Slytherin best friend,” he looks away, “until he ruined everything.” Her head tilts, “What did you do?” He looks at her, slightly startled and she smirks, “I know you had to be Slytherin since you are our Head of House, Professor.” The Potions Master nearly rolls his eyes, “I called her an unforgivable word, something I’ve regretted since the word slipped out of my mouth.” Somehow, he knows she knows what word he said as she winces, before looking at him pained, “and she didn’t forgive you?” He swallows, shaking his head, “I didn’t deserve it.” She scoffs, “That is ridiculous! You were her best friend, probably said something in the heat of a moment unthinkingly. And she didn’t forgive you! Merlin, Mother!” He looks at her in shock, “Friends are met to be there always, like family! Not abandon them when they need you!” He swallows, seeing her hair crackling with magic, “Miss Potter?” She sighs, closing her eyes, “I’m sorry Professor. I’ve never had any friends before now, but I don’t think I could ever do that to a friend.” _Why is this girl in Slytherin? She’s as dedicated as a Hufflepuff, as brilliant as a Ravenclaw, and as courageous as a bloody Gryffindor._

“Did you know my father, too?” Lily’s daughter asks softly, watching the Potion Master’s jaw clench, “I did.” She winces hearing the slight growl in his voice, “Was he…” she pauses, her eyes closing, “was he like Harry?” Snape’s black eyes snap to her, “Like Harry how?” She messes with the edge of her robes, “Did he hate Slytherins too?” He flinches, _say something nice, _“He detested them, but I’d say he only hated one.” Her blue-green eyes widen, looking at him in horror, “You, Professor?” _How does she know this?_ He nods, “Me.” Her eyes soften, “That’s why you dislike Harry. He thinks you hate him, is set on hating you… I—” she sighs, whispering, “sometimes I think he hates me too, Ron does.” He growls, moving toward the redhead first-year, “Listen to me, there is nothing wrong with you. Be proud of who you are, do not hide it.” She looks up at him, blinking away tears, “Thank you, Professor.” Celeste straightens, and he can finally see the Slytherin in her, walking to the door before stopping and looking at him determinedly, “I’ll try to make you and Slytherin House proud.” Then she’s gone and Professor Severus Snape slumps into the counter behind him. _I’m going to have my hands full with her…_

-~=~-~=~-~=~-

Thursday morning came quickly, finding Cel sitting next to Harry and Ron, listening amusedly to Hermione giving them all flying tips she got from her reading. Harry rolls his eyes, sharing a look of boredom with Ron, both actively ignoring the snobbish bookworm. Neville is the only other one listening to her, hoping to get any help he can, but everyone else is happy that her lecture is interrupted by the arrival of the mail. Harry’s eyes widen in surprise as Hedwig enters with a letter in her beak, landing gracefully in front of Cel where she drops it. Both twins’ eyes widen at it before Cel cautiously picks it up, shakily opening it. Harry though smirks over at the Slytherin Table to Lestrange, the only one he’s overheard talking about their lack of mail. Cel takes in her aunt’s flawless script,

=-~-=-~-=-~-=

Dear Celeste,

I was surprised by your letter; I had thought you would prefer to forget about your Uncle Vernon and I. But I am grateful that you haven’t. The house is tense and quiet, but I’m glad that you both got to Hogwarts safely. I remember Lily’s first letter home, talking about everything going on, all the new experiences. So, don’t be afraid to write them to me. It’s nice to know that both of you have friends, that is one of my regrets.

Are you and Harry doing okay? I know Lily had a friend from before Hogwarts and school, the rivalry between Gryffindors and Slytherins eventually pulled them apart. I hope that doesn’t happen to you and Harry; your bond is so much more precious. It’s been hard without you and Harry here, helping me. Dudley’s gained more friends, boys much like him so be wary when you come home. What are your friends like? How are your classes? Anything that excites you? I even find it sad that I can’t write to you every day. Well, I can but I have no way to send them until Harry’s beautiful owl returns with your reply.

Thank you for telling her to be wary of your uncle. Things have… well, they aren’t the same without you here. I’m glad that you are learning so much, like how to control your abilities. And I’m sorry for not telling you and Harry earlier. You both deserve an aunt better and stronger than I, but sadly I am the only family you have left and for that, I am truly sorry. Give Harry my regards and that I wish him well.

Sincerely yours,

Aunt Petunia

=-~-=-~-=-~-=

Harry watches in amusement as she hugs the letter to her chest before his eyes are torn away by a barn owl landing in front of Neville. It drops a small package from his gran. Everyone watches as he excitedly opens, showing them all a glass ball, the size of a large marble fill with what looks to be white smoke. Cel gasp looking at it in wonder and Neville exclaims, “It’s a Remebrall. Gran knows I forget things—this tells you if there’s something you’ve forgotten to do. look, you hold it tight like this and if it turns red—oh,” his face falls as the white smoke turns scarlet, “… you’ve forgotten something…”

Cel gives Neville a sympathetic smile as he tries to remember what he forgot when Lestrange, steals the Remembrall out of his hands. Harry and Ron leap to their feet, half hoping for a reason to fight but Cel just smirks at him, crossing her arms as a voice asks, “What’s going on here?” Cel glances at Professor McGonagall as Neville swallows. “Lestrange took Neville’s Remembrall, Professor.” Lestrange narrows his eyes at her before dropping the ball on a table, “Just looking, Professor,” glowering at his housemate before strutting away with Crabbe and Goyle shadowing behind. Cel just smiles innocently as he goes. There’s a whistle beside her, “Might want to be careful there, Red.” Cel lifts a brow at the Weasley twins, “Red? Really?” The other twin, Fred, chuckles nodding, “You are the only none Weasley with red hair you know, so Red works.” Cel rolls her eyes, “Whatever, and don’t worry I can handle Lestrange.” George shakes his head, “Whatever you say, Slytherin Princess.” She groans, “Please don’t, I don’t even know where that started.” Honestly, she has a pretty good idea who, the same one spreading her ‘terrorizing’ Lestrange on the train.

Classes go quickly, and before they know it it's three-thirty. “It’s a beautiful day,” Sophie exclaims, enjoying the breeze ruffling her hair, “too bad we have to waste it with the Gryffindors.” The group of friends rolls their eyes. “Soph, flying isn’t that bad, you know…” Draco replies, smirking at her. She rolls her own, “If Humans were met to fly, we’d have wings, so I’m perfectly content with both feet firmly on the ground. Thank you very much.” They burst into laughter as they near twenty-four broomstick in two lines. Madam Hooch, a strict looking woman with yellow hawk-like eyes and short gray hair, tips her head to them then they begin their wait for the Gryffindors. Finally, the students in red appear and class begins. “Well, what are you all waiting for?” she barks, “Everyone stand by a broomstick. Come on, hurry up.” The class hurriedly does, a few looking at their broom in disgust. “Stick out your right hand over your broom,” Madam Hooch calls, “and say ‘Up!’” A few share a startled look before everyone does as she commanded. There’s a chorus of “Up!”s. Only four brooms jump into students' hands, Draco’s, Lestrange’s, and the Potter twins. Ron shoots the Potters an annoyed look, continuing to say “Up!” until it hits him on the nose. Harry laughs at him, earning a glare, “Shut up, Harry.” Harry looks around, feeling perhaps that brooms can tell when one is afraid. As Hermione’s only turns over and she’s starting to get annoyed. Neville is worse off, as there’s a quiver in his voice and his broom doesn’t move at all.

Once brooms are in everyone’s hands, Madam Hooch shows them how to mount their brooms, “without falling off the end,” and walks up and down the rows correcting their grips. Harry and Ron smirk as they hear her correct a Slytherin’s hold, sobering up when Cel glares at them. “Now when I blow my whistle, you kick off from the ground, hard.” Madam Hooch continues, “Keep your brooms steady, rise a few feet, and then come straight back down by leaning forward slightly. On my whistle—three—two—" The whistle is barely blown before Neville’s broom raises on its own accord, its rider freaking out as it rises higher and higher. “Very good, Mr. Longbottom, now come back down,” Madam Hooch replies her eyes glancing at the students gawking at the unfortunate boy. “I don’t think he can, Madam Hooch,” Cel says, looking from Neville to the teacher before everyone gasps. The broom zooms toward the castle quickly, almost like it wants its rider off. Madam Hooch curse under her breath, “A faulty broom,” grabbing her wand before the broom zooms toward her making her jump away, dropping her wand.

The class watches horrified as the broom tries everything it can to remove Neville, hitting the stone walls with its bristles than its handle. Finally, it manages, there are screams as Neville skyrockets to the ground. His cloak gets caught, slowing his descent before he crashes to the grass with a whimper. The class rushes to him, and Madam Hooch tsks, reaching him first, turning him over. He’s crying and breathless, clutching his wrist. “Oh, oh dear, it’s a broken wrist,” Hooch mutters, her face white, helping the shaken boy up before turning to the class, “None of you is to move while I take Mr. Longbottom to the hospital wing! You leave those broom where they are or you’ll be out of Hogwarts before you can say, ‘Quidditch.’ Come on, dear.” They watch the shaking tear-stained Neville hobble with Madam Hooch, who’s whispering to him trying to ease him as they go. As soon as they’re out of earshot someone bursts into laughter, “Did you see his face, the great lump?” There’s a hiss as Cel turns to the speaker, “He nearly died, Lestrange!” He scoffs, “Good riddance, I say.” She growls, stalking toward him as Zabini stops her. “I’d like to see you deal with a defective broom,” Roper retorts, “Maybe then we’d be laughing at your face.” The Gryffindors’ share a look, not knowing how to take this, Slytherins standing up for a Gryffindor.

“Well, well, well, look what Longbottom dropped,” Lestrange sneers, showing the Remembrall to everyone, “I bet if Longbottom gave this a squeeze, he might’ve remembered to fall on his fat arse.” Cel growls from her spot, still being restrained, now by Malfoy, Zabini, and Nott. “Give that here, Lestrange,” Harry snaps quietly. Everyone stops to watch the male Potter stalk to the other dark-haired boy, their breaths held. Lestrange grins at him nastily, “No, I think I’ll leave it somewhere for Longbottom to find…” stepping on his broom vertically, the crowd parting to let him through. “How about…” swinging around the group, now riding properly, smirking down at Harry, “… up a tree?” Then flies over to a nearby Oak, hovering just inches above the topmost branches, “Come and get it, Potter! Or am I bit too far out of your reach?” Harry snarls, grabbing his broom. “_No!_” Hermione shouts, “Madam Hooch told us not to move—you’ll get us all into trouble.” Harry ignores her, mounting his broom, before a hand appears on it, “Harry, think, please! Let him get caught, let him get into trouble.” He glances at his sister before pulling her hand off and kicking off. “Harry!” she exclaims, angered at her brother. “What an idiot,” Hermione voices Cel’s thoughts, she nods in agreement.

Blood is pounding in Harry’s ears as he soars higher and higher, air rushing through his hair, his robes whipping out behind him. A maniac grin coming to his face as he realizes with fierce joy that he’s found something he can do without being taught. _This is easy, this is wonderful._ He pulls the broom up a little to taking it even higher, hearing screams and gasps of girls back on the ground and an admiring whoop from Ron. There’s a smirk on his face as he sharply turns to face Lestrange in midair. Lestrange looks ruffled but otherwise unimpressed, lifting a single brow. “Give it here or I’ll knock you off that broom?” Lestrange smirks, “Oh yeah?” Harry’s eyes narrow, leaning forward grasping the broom tightly with both hands and it shoots toward Lestrange like a javelin. Lestrange huffs, waiting to the last second to move flawlessly out of the way. Harry growls, making a sharp about-face and held the broom steady. A few people below are clapping and whistling. “No Crabbe and Goyle up here to save you neck, Lestrange,” Harry calls. Lestrange simply chuckles, “Have it your way then, Potter,” before throwing the ball high in the sky arching toward the castle, before smirking at Harry. Harry doesn’t stay to hear the rest, zooming after the ball, seeing it in slow motion. He catches it midair, only feet from a glass window during three tumbles to slow down and stop before crashing into the window. There’s cheering as he lands, the class as a whole running towards him. “That was wicked, Harry?” one exclaims, everyone clapping him on the back.

“HADRIAN POTTER!” Harry’s heart sinks, as everyone freezes, glancing behind Harry at the Professor running toward him. He turns, wincing as he sees an almost speechless Professor McGonagall. “Never—in all my time at Hogwarts—” her glasses flashing dangerously, “—how dare you—might have broken your neck—” Cel winces, glaring at Lestrange, “It wasn’t his fault, Professor—” McGonagall gives her a look at silences her. “But Lestrange—” The transfiguration teacher flicks her eyes the now speaking student, “That’s _enough_, Mr. Weasley. Mr. Potter, follow me now.” Harry swallows, nodding then following after her, glancing one last time at his sister mouthing, ‘I’m sorry.’ He’s silent as she leads them through the corridors, with Harry lost in his thoughts. _I’m going to be expelled. I didn’t even manage two weeks! Why didn’t I listen to Cel and Hermione?!_ Professor McGonagall stops outside a classroom, poking her head inside, “Excuse me, Professor Flitwick, could I borrow Wood for a moment?” Harry’s heart pounds, _wood? Like a paddle…?!_ Thankfully not, Wood appears to be a burly fifth-year Gryffindor boy. “Follow me, you two,” McGonagall states, her tone revealing nothing to the two confused boys. As she marches them through the corridor, Wood curiously scans Harry.

“In here,” Professor McGonagall states, pointing at an empty class. Well, except for Peeves, the school Poltergeist, who’s busy writing rude words on the blackboard. “Out, Peeves!” she barks. Peeves throws the chalk into a bin, clanging loudly, and he swoops out cursing. McGonagall slams the door shut behind them, before turning to the boys. “Potter, this is Oliver Wood. Wood—I’ve found you a Seeker!” Wood’s expression turns from puzzlement to delight, “Are you serious, Professor?” McGonagall nods, her eyes sparkling, “Absolutely! The boy’s a natural. I’ve never seen anything like it. Was that your first time on a broomstick, Potter?” Harry nods confused but has butterflies in his stomach, _they’re talking about Quidditch!_ “He caught that thing in his hand nearly six feet away from my window and stopped within a foot of the wall. Didn’t even scratch himself. Charlie Weasley couldn’t have done it.” Wood’s face is now looking as though all his dreams have come true at once, “Ever seen a game of Quidditch, Potter?” Professor McGonagall shakes her head, glancing at Harry, “Wood’s captain of the Gryffindor team.”

“He’s just the build for a Seeker, too,” Wood comments, walking around Harry and staring at him, “Light—speedy—we’ll have to make sure he gets a decent broom, Professor.” McGonagall nods, “Heaven knows, we need a better team than last year. _Flattened_ in that last match by Slytherin, I couldn’t look Severus—Professor Snape in the face for weeks…” she looks at Harry sternly over her glasses, “I want to hear you’re training hard, Potter, or I may change my mind about punishing you.” then she smiles, “James would have been proud, he was an excellent Quidditch player himself.”

“You’re_ joking_!” Ron exclaims, sitting next to Harry at dinner, a piece of steak and kidney pie halfway to his mouth, forgotten, “_Seeker_? But first years _never_—you must be the youngest house player in about—” Harry chuckles, biting into his own pie, “A century. Wood told me.” His sister sighs, on his other side, she’d ran toward him when she saw him. Harry nearly had to peel her off. “You are lucky, you know that,” Cel comments, shaking her head in disbelief. Harry rolls his eyes at her, “I know, Cel, I know. I should have listened to you, it was stupid.” Cel sniffs, “As long as you know. Honestly, if it was anyone else, you’d be on the train home.” Harry ignores, grinning at a silent impressed and awed Ron, who’s just gaping at him, “I start training next week,” he glances at his sister pointedly, “Only don’t tell anyone, Wood wants to keep it a secret.” Fred and George enter, grinning at Harry when they spot him and hurry over. “Well done,” George whispers. “Wood told us,” continues Fred, “We’re on the team too—” Saying as one, “Beaters.” Fred continues, “I tell you; we’re going to win that Quidditch cup for sure this year.” George nods, “We haven’t won since Charlie left, but this year’s team is going to be brilliant.” Fred nods too, “You must be good, Harry, Wood was almost skipping when he told us.” George smirks, “Anyway, we’ve got to go, Lee Jordan reckons he’s found a new secret passageway out of the school.” Fred nudges him, “Bet it’s that one behind the statue of Gregory the Smarmy that we found in our first week. See you,” then the Weasley twins walk away.

“What if I make a fool out of myself,” Harry asks, a sudden thought hitting him as he walks out with Ron and Cel, “What if it was a fluke?” Cel rolls her eyes as Hermione joins her, “You won’t make a fool of yourself, Harry.” Hermione looks at her questioningly, before her eyes widen and she grins knowingly, “She’s right, it’s in your blood.” Harry and Ron share a confused and weirded out glance and Cel rolls her eyes, “Come on, we’ll show you.” The boys follow the two girls curiously as both heads to the grand staircase. They’re led down the sixth-floor corridor to a room filled with awards, trophies, cups, plates, shields, statues and medals. Cel and Hermione weaves through the cases before stopping in front of one, pointing at it, “See?” Harry curiously joins them grinning when he sees a large golden badge,

Seeker

James

Potter

1975

“Wow,” Harry whispers as Ron joins him, “How did you find this?” Cel shrugs, “I read up on Dad after Hagrid said he was Quidditch Captain, learned he was one of the best. Never lost a game…” She smiles at him, “So it’s in your blood.” He smiles, nudging her, “Yours too.” She chuckles shaking her head, “Let’s go before the room decides to move on us.” Harry and Ron frown, “It moves?” The girls laugh nodding, “It does.”

“It likes to switch between the sixth and the third floors,” Cel continues, grinning at Hermione who shivers, “That was horrid. We nearly got lost…” The boys shake their heads at them, wondering what that is like as they head down the stairs. They screech slightly on the second staircase down. “What is happening?” Ron shakily asks. “The staircases move remember?” Hermione retorts as the staircase moves them to a different balcony with no other stairs currently attached. “Come on,” Harry exclaims, “we’re getting off here.” Ron pale-faced, nods in agreement, “Before the staircase moves again.” The girls don’t argue, silently joining them as they go through the door. “Doesn’t it feel like we’re not supposed to be here?!” Ron asks as the girls give each other terrified looks, “This is the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side it’s forbidden.

Harry swallows, _great just wonderful. Breaking yet another rule…_ a sound stops his thoughts, a meow, Mrs. Norris, Mr. Filch’s annoying cat. “Run!” he exclaims and the four breaks into a run immediately only to be halted by a locked door. “This is it!” Ron moans, “We’re done for! This is the end!” The girls roll their eyes. “Oh, move over!” Hermione exclaims, pulling the two away as Cel pulls out her wand, _“Alohomora!”_ The boy’s eyes widen as the lock clicks open and the girls open the door with ease. “Alohomora?” Ron asks. Hermione rolls her eyes, “Standard Book of Spells, chapter seven. Honestly…” she glances at her friend whose staring at something in horror. “I think I know why its forbidden,” Harry whispers as the four swallows in fear looking at a massive, monstrous dog, that fills the whole space between ceiling and floor. It has three heads; three pairs of rolling, mad eyes; three noses, twitching and quivering in their direction; three drooling mouths, saliva hanging in slippery ropes from yellowish fangs.

They’d obviously startled it with their abrupt entry but if the growls now emitting from the three-headed beast are any indication, it’s getting over it. _Between death and Filch, I’ll take Filch!_ Harry moves backwards, groping the door and opening it, then gripping his sister’s hand pulling her from the room the other two right behind. Their silence continues as they run out of the corridor back to the grand staircase not caring where it’ll take them, Harry pulls his sister along as they head to the portrait of the Fat Lady. “Pig snout,” Harry exclaims. The Fat lady glances at Cel still locked in Harry’s death grip, before noticing the familial resemblance and opening. “Harry,” Cel finally says, “should I be in your common room? I’m Slytherin, remember?” Harry grunts, “You’re my sister, and after…” he pauses, taking a breath, “and after that, I really don’t want to leave you alone.” Cel sighs, “Okay, Harry, let’s sit down. Breathe,” sitting down, and dragging her brother with her.

“What do they think they’re doing, keeping a thing like that locked up in a school?” Ron voices, loud enough for the others to hear, “If any dog needs exercise, that one does.” Hermione glowers at him, snapping, “You don’t use your eyes, either of you, do you? Didn’t you see what it was standing on?” The boys share a glance. “The Floor?” Harry repeats and Ron snorts, “I wasn’t looking at its feet, I was too bust with its head. Which in case you didn’t notice, there were three!” Cel glances sympathetically at Hermione, then shaking her head as she looks at the boys, “No, _not_ the floor. It was standing on a trapdoor.” Hermione smiles at her gratefully, adding, “It’s obviously guarding something.” Then she stands, glaring at the boys, “I hope you are pleased with yourselves. Now, if you don’t mind, I’m going to bed, before either of you,” her brown eyes glowing as they flick between the boys, “find another clever idea to get us killed—or worse, expelled.” Hermione smiles at Cel before walking off as the boys share a bewildered look.

“She needs to sort out her priorities,” Ron mutters. Cel rolls her eyes, “Honestly, being expelled is worse, Ron.” Ron snorts, “How?! You are dead?!” Cel huffs, “You’ll die eventually but being expelled…? It’s fine if you are after your OWLS, but now when we’ve barely learned anything, you’d never be able to do magic again. You’d have to ignore a part of you for the rest of your days. I don’t know about you but that sounds worse. Now excuse me, I’m going to talk to Percy, see if he wouldn’t mind walking me to the Slytherin common room.” Harry and Ron stare after her, stunned silent. Both girls had given the boys something to think about, Cel’s words of wisdom for them both and for Harry the dog guarding something. _Is it guarding the grubby little package from Gringotts?_ Harry wanting another ear to tell, and won’t tell him to leave it alone, tells Ron about the vault and grubby package. That it was the same vault someone tried to break into.

“Excuse me?” Cel asks, finding the elder school-bound Weasley with his nose in a book. Percy looks up, sending her a questioning look before his eyes widen, “What are you doing here?” She swallows, “Harry dragged me up here. I hope it’s okay…” her eyes widen, “and don’t worry I won’t tell anyone any passwords.” Percy’s head tilts, “So why are you here?” Cel offers him a polite smile, “I was hoping you’d walk me to the Slytherin common room as you’re a prefect.” Percy’s eyes light up, nodding, “Sure, but you know it isn’t after hours yet, right? You can walk by yourself without getting into trouble.” Cel rolls her eyes, “Harry doesn’t want me to go alone.” Percy nods, “Well it’ll be my honor long with my duty to escort you, my lady,” offering his arm to the redhead Slytherin, grinning as she giggles, taking it, “Thank you, Percy.” He pats her hand, “Ever welcome.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -~=~-~=~-~=~-~=~-~=~-~=~-  
Thanks for reading! I hope ya'll enjoy it and sorry for any mistakes. Positive feedback is greatly appreciated!


	10. Halloween

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Italic are thoughts*  
*Underlined and italicized words are books*  
~ Happy Reading! ~

Chapter 10 | Halloween

-~=~-~=~-~=~-

The Great Hall is in awe as a long thin package arrives the next week, carried by three screech owls. Harry’s eyes widen as they drop it in front of him, sending his bacon to the floor. Ron gapes at it as Harry notices a small note: “DO NOT OPEN AT THE TABLE!” Harry slaps away Ron’s hands, “Not here.” Ron pouts before the two scurries off. Both gape at the unwrapped package, a sleek and shiny broom with a mahogany handle, with long straight twigs, it name written in gold lettering near the top. “A Nimbus Two Thousand!” Ron whispers in awe, “I’ve never even_ touched_ one.” There’s a huff behind them, “That’s why you hurried off.” The duo jumps, turning to cover the broom before sighing seeing it’s Cel and Hermione. “What do you want?!” Ron asks rudely. Hermione crosses her arms, “So I suppose you think that’s a reward for breaking the rules?” Cel places a hand on her back, “I was worried but,” her eyes flick to the ill-concealed object, “I see I shouldn’t be. Just a word of warning, Lestrange is furious that you aren’t expelled, Harry. Please don’t let him see that…” Harry crosses his arms, “Or what?” Cel’s eyes narrow dangerously, “Or he’ll never leave you alone now or ever. He’ll see this as special treatment. Which don’t get me wrong, it is! And he’ll demand that the rule be changed for all first-years or at least the future heirs of noble houses! Which I’ll remind you does not include those with older siblings or any Half-bloods and Muggle-borns, with the exception of you.” she pauses but not for long, “He’ll torment not just you, but me as well. For once just think before you act. This will impact more than you!” Then she furiously turns around before stopping at the door, sending her brother a pointed look, “Don’t be late to Potions either,” then she’s gone, Hermione following behind. Ron whistles lowly, “What’s with her?!” Harry shrugs, “I don’t know but,” he sighs, “she’s right.”

Wood pulls him aside when Harry and Ron somehow manage to sneak the broom back, grinning at the poorly hidden object before informing Harry to meet him at the Quidditch pitch a seven this evening. So, Harry’s finding it difficult to focus on his classes, his mind drifting to the broom hidden under his sheets and the feeling of flying. He scuffs out his dinner without looking at what he’s eating before racing with Ron up to just staring at the broom in awe. As seven o’clock nears, Harry leaves the Castle, setting off to the Quidditch field. He grins, seeing the three golden poles with hoops on the end on either end with hundreds of seats in between. Too eager to fly again to wait for Wood, Harry mounts his broom, kicking off. Sighing with joy at the rush of wind hitting his face. _I’ll never tire of this;_ he thinks flying seamlessly around the field. A whistle calls him back to earth both figuratively and literally, “Hey, Potter, come down!” Harry looks for him, grinning when he spots Oliver Wood, a large wooden crate under his arm. He grins at Harry when Potter lands next to him, his eyes glinting, “Very nice. I see what McGonagall meant… you really are a natural. I’m just going to teach you the rules this evening, then you’ll be joining team practice three times a week.” Harry nods, eager to begin.

“Whatcha reading, Red?” Blaise asks, resting his head on Lily’s shoulder. “A book obviously,” Lily states, her eyes still focused on the page, though her mouth quirks, “Or are you blind, Fire?” Blaise huffs, amused, “I can see, Princess. About what?” Another voice joins in, “About gifts one can inherit,” Sophie replies. Blaise shares a look with Draco and Theo, who pauses their chess game, “Why?” Lily shrugs, “I wanted to know if one could talk to snakes and whether it was learned or inherited.” Draco coughs, “What?” he clears his throat, “Why?” She swallows, “Because we’re the house of snakes and I’ve always found them fascinating.” Theo lifts a brow, “You know you could’ve just asked us, right?” Lily’s eyes never move from the book to her friend, “I know, but I don’t always want to ask. I don’t want to bug you with things you already know.” Blaise straightens hearing pain in her voice, “You don’t bug us, Lily,” before he gasps, running around the chair to look at her face to face, “You think we’ll stop being friends with you because you don’t know everything about our world, don’t you?” Lily doesn’t look at him, but nods.

“I think we both do,” Sophie adds, sending a sad glance at her first friend. “Never!” Draco exclaims, almost violently. “Drake’s right,” Theo adds, sending the blond an odd look, before grinning at the girls, “You’re stuck with us.” Blaise nods, continuing, “‘til the end of time, princess.” Lily glares at him half-heartedly. “Talking to snakes is a thing. It’s called Parseltongue, it’s a rare…” Theo swallows, glancing at Draco and Blaise, who nods, “it’s a rare gift, believed to be inherited. Salazar Slytherin was a Parselmouth, one can learn to speak it but not… not many want to. Many believe it is a sign of a Darkness, as snakes are considered…” he trails off nervously. “Evil,” Lily finishes, looking pained, “I know.” Her eyes are distant until they flick to Theo, “Are their others who could?” the boys swallow. “You-Know-Who could,” Draco whispers, and Lily’s eyes flick to him, slightly horrified, “He could?” The boys nod, their eyes dark and concerned as she curls up into herself. “Oh… I…” Lily swallows, “Thank you for telling me.” Sophie stands before making Lily move over so she can join the redhead on the chair. Lily smiles at her before flicking back to her book as Sophie begins braiding her hair.

-~=~-~=~-~=~-

The days flew by and before the Potters knew it, they’d been at Hogwarts for two months. Celeste continues writing home but never asks to borrow Hedwig again, not wanting to bother or annoy Harry. She still sits with him and Ron for meals, but tries to leave them alone mostly, doing her homework with Hermione and the others, their group now including her Slytherin friends and visiting Hagrid. To the Slytherin boys’ annoyance, she even manages to pull them, Sophie, and Hermione along, grinning when they got along without any ruffled feathers. Occasionally she chats to Professor Snape about her mum and potions, or just things, in general, she finds interesting. Especially since Aunt Petunia confirmed she knew Severus Snape and that he was indeed the friend she was talking about. Classes got even more fascinating, and Cel kept her high marks, earning praise and points for Slytherin from nearly every Professor.

“Good morning, Harry,” Cel greets happily on Halloween morning, sitting next to her brother who almost immediately loads her plate with things he found divine. The Hogwarts kitchens outdid themselves making more than the normal breakfast foods that the boys adored. “What class do you have this morning again?” she asks, rolling her eyes as Ron stuffs his mouth with food. “Charms first,” Harry replies, grinning at her face of delight as she bites into a pumpkin pastry. Her eyes light up, but she waits until she finished to talk, _unlike some redhead._ “Ooh, you’ll be making objects fly then!” she exclaims, “We had our last Charms class yesterday.” Harry grins, “Cool, I’ve wanted to learn that since Professor Flitwick made Trevor, Neville’s toad fly through the air the first day.” Cel glances at said boy, “He made Aquila fly in ours, got him a lot of admirers actually,” chuckling at the end.

“Today we’ll be working on making objects fly,” Professor Flitwick begins from his usual spot on a pile of books, then pairs them up to practice. Harry’s partner is Seamus, a relief really as Neville was trying to catch his eye but Ron… Ron is paired with Hermione. She hasn’t said a word to them since Harry’s broom arrived, and actively ignored them. To Ron’s thrill, Harry though, felt like he was failing his sister, as Cel typically would talk to her at the table. He’d even see them walk into the Hall or Potions, talking about something. Cel hadn’t made a snappy comment about anything and definitely hasn’t ignored Ron like Harry and Ron does Hermione. So yeah Harry felt bad. “Now, don’t forget that nice wrist movement we’ve been practicing!” Professor Flitwick squeals, “Swish and flick, remember, swish and flick. And saying the magic words properly is very important, too—never forget Wizard Baruffio, who said ‘s’ instead of ‘f’ and found himself on the floor with a buffalo on his chest.”

_Merlin, this is hard. I wonder if Cel made her feather fly. And who her partner was…_ Harry thinks darkly as he and Seamus swish and flick, but their feather stays firmly on the desk. Eventually, Seamus gets impatient, prodding it with his wand and sets it on fire that Harry puts out with his hat. Ron isn’t having any more luck. _“Wingardium Leviosa!”_ he shouts, waving his long arms like a windmill, looking like he’ll poke out someone’s eyes. “You’re saying it wrong,” Hermione snaps irritably, “It’s Wing-_gar­_-dium Levi-_o_-sa, make the ‘gar’ nice and long.” Harry looks over at them. “You do it, then, if you’re so clever,” Ron snarls back. Hermione narrows her eyes at him, rolling up her sleeves, then swishes and flicks her wand perfectly, _“Wingardium Leviosa!”_ Their feather rises off the desk, hovering four feet above their heads. “Oh, well done!” Professor Flitwick exclaims, clapping, “Everyone see here, Miss Granger’s done it!” Needless to say, Ron was in a very mad mood by the end of class. “You’re saying it wrong,” Ron mocks, to the boys, Harry, Seamus, James Runcorn, and Dean Thomas, on their way to Herbology, “It’s Wing-_gar­_-dium Levi-_o_-sa. It’s no wonder no one can stand her. She’s a nightmare, honestly.” Harry winces when he sees bushy brown hair move past him, knocking uncaringly into his shoulder, and he’s startled to see tears in her eyes, “I think she heard you.” Ron’s eyes follow her, “So?” but even he looks uncomfortable.

“Hey, Hermio—” Celeste begins grinning at her friend before seeing the tears in her eyes as she hurries past her wordlessly. Lily’s eyes follow her, before she glances at Sophie, “See you later. I’m going to see what’s wrong…” Sophie nods, “I’ll tell the others, tell me if you need me, ok?” Lily nods before rushing after the crying Gryffindor. “Hermione! Wait!” she calls, but the bookworm doesn’t stop. So, she follows her all the way to the first-floor bathroom. “Mia? What’s wrong?” Lily asks gently, walking to the sobbing girl. “Why are you friends with me?! I’m horrible!” she exclaims brokenly. “Who said that?!” she gasps, moving closer. “Ron… he was telling the other Gryffindor boys,” Hermione sniffs, “But everyone thinks it.” Lily growls lowly, _I knew there was a good reason I disliked him. Harry, we are going to have a talk about your friends._ “Well, I don’t, Mia,” Lily tells her trying to hug her, but the girl pushes her away entering a stall, that Lily leans her head against

Regardless, she continues, “You’re one of my first friends and you understand me better than even Harry does sometimes. You enjoy reading in silence with me and answering all my questions. You join me willing to do homework that isn’t even assigned to either of us yet. Honestly, I think you’re my best friend, the only one who understands me nearly perfectly.” There’s a sniff on the other side, “Go away. You are just telling me that. I just want to be left alone.” Lily closes her eyes, “I’m not going anywhere, Mia. I’m here to stay,” sitting on a nearby bench. “What are you doing here?” a Gryffindor girl asks her. “Hello, Patil,” Lily greets, her eyes flicking sadly to the stall with Hermione, “I’m with Hermione.” The girl sniffs, “She isn’t. I want to be left alone!” Parvati glances at the stall too, whispering, “Is she alright?” Lily shakes her head, vowing again to have a few words with one Ronald Weasley. Parvati sighs sadly then silently leaves.

Draco’s arms are crossed tightly, his cool silvery blue-grey eyes flicking around the Great Hall uneasily not even sparing a glance at the decor floating above, “Where is she?” Blaise rolls her eyes, “Calm, Drake, I’m sure she’s fine. She and Mia are together, remember…” The blond Slytherin glares at him, “It’s not like her to miss classes, Blaise.” Later adding, “Neither of them, too,” remembering what they overheard. Draco sees the Gryffindors enter and he growls, standing and marching over to Potter, Theo. Blaise and Sophie hurriedly following. The two Head of House watches, their keen eyes following what must be trouble. “Potter!” Draco exclaims, nearly growling, “Where is your sister?!” He doesn’t dare ask about Hermione. “How should I know, Malfoy? I don’t keep tabs on her nor is she in my House!” The Slytherin growls lowly, his tone with a sharp edge to it, “She went after your housemate, Granger, and she’s missed every class since! So,” his voice lower, “where is she?” Blaise stops Draco from lunging at Potter as his eyes widen in horror. A throat clears, “Problems, gentlemen?” Professor McGonagall states, her eyes peering at the boys. Draco’s eyes narrow at Potter, his voice still dangerous and joining Potter’s with, “No, Professor.” McGonagall’s eyes flick the between them, “Then join your houses then.” The young Malfoy heir nods at stalks towards his table the others trying to calm him down as they follow, McGonagall’s eyes following them puzzled.

Harry nervously and shakily sits down, his eyes flicking towards the Slytherin table, hoping Malfoy was wrong. But he doesn’t see a single splash of red among the sea of green. He tells Ron as much, who turns just as shakily as Harry. The boys were just starting to fill their plates with the suddenly appearing feast on golden plates, like the start-of-term banquet. When Professor Quirrell comes sprinting into the hall, his turban askew and terror written across his face. Everyone simply stares as he reaches Professor Dumbledore’s chair, and slumps against the table, gasping, “Troll—in the dungeons—thought you ought to know.” Then the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher sinks to the floor in a dead faint. Instantly there’s an uproar, that takes several purple firecrackers bursting from the end of Dumbledore’s wand to bring silence. “Prefects,” He states calmly, “lead your Houses back to the dormitories immediately!” Percy was in his element, “Follow me! Stick together, first years! No need to fear the troll if you follow my orders! Stay close behind me, now. Make way, first years coming through! Excuse me, I’m a prefect!” Harry glances at Ron as they head of the marble staircase, “How could a troll get in?” Ron shrugs, “Don’t ask me, they’re supposed to be really stupid. Maybe Peeves let it in for a Halloween joke.” A hand on Harry’s arm stops them. Startled, both turn seeing no other than Draco Malfoy, “Where is your sister now, Potter?!” Harry’s eyes widen, his face draining of all sense of color. “Come on, Potter, Weasley, we are going to find them,” Malfoy nearly growls before pulling the two boys away.

Harry’s surprised at how sneaky the white-blond Slytherin is as he and Ron follow behind him. “If your sister is hurt, Potter,” Malfoy’s eyes flick to Harry then Ron, “I’ll make both your lives miserable. I just know you had something to do with it…” Harry trembles slightly, sharing a glance with a terrified Ron, “Can you smell something?” Malfoy and Harry both sniff the air, both wrinkling their nose at the horrid smell, a mixture of old socks and the kind of smell of a public toilet no one seems to clean. The trio of boys’ freezes, when they hear low grunting and shuffling footfalls of gigantic feet. Ron fearfully points to the end of the passage to the left, where something huge is moving toward them. “I think the troll’s left the dungeon,” Malfoy growl whispers as they sink back into the shadows as it appears. It’s a horrible sight.

Twelve feet tall, its skin a dull, granite gray, its great lumpy body like a boulder with its small bald head perched on top like a coconut. Short legs, thick as tree truck with flat, horny feet, it’s holding a huge wooden club, that drags behind it because the arms are so long. The boys watch it stop next to a doorway, peering inside and waggling its long ears, then making up its mind slouches slowly into the room. “The key’s in the lock,” Harry mutters, “We could lock it in.” Ron nods, “Good idea!” Malfoy snorts, “Or a horrible one.” The boys glare at him and he lifts a brow moving to the open door, “unless your intent is to kill Celeste and Granger.” He shakes his head at the bewildered looks, “That’s the girl’s bathroom, you dunderheads! Come on…” Ron curses but they follow the Slytherin. Just as they enter, they hear twin high-pitched screams, which further encourages the boys.

Celeste manages to pull Hermione out of the way of the first swing of the troll, both ducking in a stall sinking to the floor as the troll swings again destroying the stalls. “Cel! Hermione!” her brother exclaims, the girls manage to move the debris enough to see the boys. “You okay?” Draco exclaims, sighing when the girls’ nod. “Potter, Weasley, confuse it I’ll help the girls.” The Gryffindor boys don’t even argue just nod, beginning to throw debris at the troll as Draco silently tries to flank it as it prepares a downward swing where the girls are. “Oy, pea-brain!” Ron yells, throwing a metal pipe at its head, gaining its attention as he destroys the toilets, sending water everywhere. At the same moment, Draco reaches the girls, taking their hands and pulling them out then toward the back wall. Unfortunately, their escape recaptures the troll’s interest. The three manages to hide under the sinks, just in time to miss the troll’s strike. Harry growls, almost feeling his sister’s terror, and does something that Cel will yell at him for weeks for, a very brave but stupid thing. He takes a great running leap, managing to fasten his arms around the troll’s neck from behind. There was a setback to this, the troll couldn’t feel Harry but he could feel the long bit of wood up his nose… Harry’s wand. Howling in pain, the troll twists, flailing its club around wildly.

_Any second Harry, Malfoy or the girls could be killed,_ Ron thinks angrily, _think of something._ Only one thing comes to mind, and he aims his wand at the troll’s club, saying the words that caused this little adventure, _“Wingardium Leviosa!”_ Ron’s eyes widen as the troll’s club floats into the air, high above the troll’s head then turns over and drops with a sickening crack on its owner’s head. The troll sways on the spot for a moment before crashing to the floor with a thud that makes the room tremble. Harry gets to his feet first, walking toward the troll, giving a stunned Ron a grateful look. “Is it—dead?” Hermione asks, the trio moving from the safety of the sinks, tightly holding hands. “I don’t think so,” Harry replies, “I think it’s just been knocked out.” A crying redhead launches herself at him, wrapping him in a tight hug that he heartily returns. Malfoy moves to his side and surprising him with a pat on the back before getting Harry’s wand and cleaning off the lumpy gray glue that now covers it with a spell from his own wand, that he hands to Harry. He rubs Cel’s back comfortingly, as he addresses Ron, “Good job with that, Weasley.” The Gryffindor boys share a surprised look as sudden slamming and loud pounding footsteps pull Cel from her brother joining Hermione, both holding hands.

A moment later, Professor McGonagall bursts in with Professor Snape close behind, and Quirrell brings up the rear. The DADA professor takes one look at the troll and faintly whimpers, siting quickly on a toilet, clutching his heart. Snape bends of the troll, and Professor McGonagall looks angrily at the three boys. Harry had never seen her so furious that her lips her white. Any hopes of winning fifty points fade quickly from the two Gryffindor’s minds. “What on earth were you thinking of?” she exclaims, cold fury in her voice, “You’re lucky you weren’t killed. Why aren’t you in your dormitories?” Snape’s eyes flick between the three boys before landing on a sobbing Celeste and a trembling Hermione, where they soften slightly. “Please, Professor McGonagall—they were for looking for us.” The transfiguration teacher now notices the girls and a look of clarity enter her eyes. “We weren’t at dinner,” Cel continues after sharing a glance with the brown-haired bookworm, “and they wanted to make sure we knew and were safe. And,” she sniffs, “if they hadn’t come…” she trails off.

“We’d probably be dead,” Hermione continues, squeezing Cel’s hand, “Draco helped us to safety while Harry and Ron dealt with the troll. They didn’t have any time to tell anyone. And if it wasn’t for Celeste sticking by me,” she closes her eyes, trembling, “I’d be dead even faster.” Cel wraps her in a hug. “I understand, Miss Granger, Miss Potter,” McGonagall says, hearing the truth in them. Her eyes flick to the boys, “Each of you will be given 20 points for your desire to protect others, Miss Potter, 10 points to Slytherin for your value of friendship. The five of you go for a checkup with Madam Pomfrey, then go to your Dormitories, where you’ll be finishing the feast, I’ll be sure your peers save some for you. And Headmaster Dumbledore will be informed of what took place. Off you go.” The five students nod before heading on their way, their Head of House’s staring after them in wonder, missing the glare that one gives the fallen troll. “Astonishing…”

The five walks silently to the hospital and Madam Pomfrey dismisses them with a diagnostic spell. The twins share one last hug before splitting up to head to their dormitories, each silent. “That was very brave,” Lily whispers once they reached the entry point to the Slytherin Dungeon. Draco shrugs, his eyes widening as she presses a gentle kiss to his cheek, “Thank you,” then saying the password and disappearing inside. Draco smiles slightly, his hand pressed where she kissed, slightly blushing before entering to, the mask falling back into place. For the Gryffindor trio, they are silent, only murmuring small, “Thanks,” before entering and getting their food. But there’s a silent agreement that they are friends now, after all you can’t go through something like that and not be. Harry even begins thinking that maybe Cel’s friends aren’t so bad as he thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -~=~-~=~-~=~-~=~-~=~-~=~-  
Thanks for reading! I hope ya'll enjoy it and sorry for any mistakes. Positive feedback is greatly appreciated!


	11. Quidditch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Italic are thoughts*  
*Underlined and italicized words are books*  
~ Happy Reading! ~

Chapter 11 | Quidditch

-~=~-~=~-~=~-

“I’m sorry,” Lily hears a girl say the next day after Potions, “But I cannot be friends with you. Not anymore!” There’s a low near growl, “Because some Gryffindors have finally deemed you worthy of being their friend, you’re going to drop the first ones who accepted you nearly instantly! Unbelievable, Granger,” Lily’s eyes close in pain, “I thought you were better than that. Don’t worry, I’ll tell the others that the snakes are no longer wanted. I wonder what Lily’s going to think.” Lily hears her Slytherin friend leave in a huff before entering the empty room, looking sadly at the shocked Gryffindor. “Really, Mia?” Hermione straightens, looking at Lily, “How much of that did you hear?” The Slytherin crosses her arms, “Enough to know my friends aren’t good enough now that my idiotic brother and his best friend have opened their arms to you. Have you forgotten that they picked on you, Mia? Because I haven’t!” Hermione’s eyes narrow, “They aren’t idiotic. They are brave, they saved our lives.” Lily glowers at her, “They wouldn’t have the need to if they could be nice. And don’t forget Draco helped just as much and didn’t do a thing to put you in that position. Draco said they wanted to lock the troll in with us, not knowing it was the girl’s bathroom. They nearly got us killed!” Lily takes a deep breath, “I guess the question is now, will we be friends, or will you drop me too?” then she leaves without another word.

The furious Lily Potter heads to the Slytherin dormitories where Sophie just finished telling the boys about Granger’s decision. “Don’t worry I know, Soph,” Lily states, dropping between Theo and Blaise, “I just spoke to her. Wondering if she’ll now defriend me,” her eyes flick to the light brunette, “Yelled at her about her choice of friends actually,” she snorts, “she stood up for them.” Blaise shares a glance at Theo, “Well, they did save her life.” Lily rolls her eyes, “After they made her hide in the bathroom all day sobbing because she deemed to help Ronald. He mocked her for it and Harry didn’t say a word. So honestly, they were only fixing what they screwed up in the first place and earning her undying loyalty in the process. And Draco,” her eyes flick to him, “actually saved us. My brother and Ron were just bumbling along by sneer dumb luck.” Theo pats her leg, “Okay, get back to your book and stop ranting.” Lily gives him a soft-hearted glare before gathering a rather advanced charm book and getting lost to it as the group around her laughs. She sends them all glares, “I’m preparing for Christmas gifts, so hush.”

-~=~-~=~-~=~-

Now November, the temperature drops forcing everyone to bundle up. Hermione, to no one’s surprise, continues her friendship with Celeste, as Harry and Ron try to draw the young redhead away from her House. Hermione stops calling her ‘Lily’ around the boys, changing to ‘Cel’ as they do. Cel manages to resist, dividing her time between the two. Even days she eats and studies with Harry, Ron, and Hermione, even spending time in their common room. Then on odd days, she spends with her House, helping them with homework she’s already finished, and enjoying time with those who don’t wish to change her. Potions is especially fun when the Gryffindor trio tries to partner with her. Thankfully, neither Snape nor Draco allows it, so she isn’t called a house traitor there. No, that’s only whispered by a select few cruel Slytherins when she “deems the snakes worthy of her presence.” On weekends, she tries to half her time with both, Gryffindors in the morning, her house at night. By mid-November, she’s learned that she can talk about her time in the lion’s den but can never talk about the “pit of snakes,” it only causes arguments with Ron and Harry.

“First game of the Quidditch season is tomorrow,” Draco grins, “Excited?” Lily huffs, her head resting on her arms, “Honestly, no, Dray. As much as I actually want to see a game, it’s Slytherin versus Gryffindor.” Theo winces, “Ouch.” She nods, “Yeah… at least I can finally see Harry play though.” Blaise chuckles, “I don’t know what Wood was thinking trying to keep that a secret. Anyone with eyes could see he’d gotten a broom.” Sophie snorts, glancing at Draco, “Problems, Drake?” The blond sulks, “Playing Quidditch and getting a broom as a first-year,” he huffs, “talk about special treatment.” He winces looking at Lily, “Sorry Lils.”. The redhead shrugs, “I know. I think it’s because he’s Gryffindor, I’m not getting special treatment…” Things, ironically, couldn’t tenser between her friends and her brother. Something she thought would have been mended with Halloween. Blaise snorts, “You aren’t, Princess, you sit with the Gryffindors and go to their common room every other day.” Lily rolls her eyes, “Because that’s not against any rules. Professor Dumbledore didn’t say we couldn’t.”

“They also don’t pick on you,” Sophie adds unhelpfully. “Because I’m Harry’s sister,” Lily huffs, “not for any other reason.” There’s a chorus of chuckles, “You know what, I’ll stay with them.” Getting up to join Harry, Ron, and Hermione as they head out. “Where you off to?” she asks. “Outside to read,” Harry answers, grinning at his sister, shooting a smug smirk over her shoulder to the Slytherins out of her view, “Coming with?” His sister nods, “Of course, Harry. What are you reading?” Hermione cuts in, “I loaned him_ Quidditch through the Ages_.” Cel nods, “Ah… Glad you’re liking it. I’ll go and get my book, I’ll be back.” The Gryffindors nod, watching amused as the Slytherin skips to her common room. “It’s too bad she isn’t Gryffindor, I think she’d fit right in,” Ron mutters, glancing at Hermione. “So, do I,” Harry agrees, “At least we can get her away from the snakes.” Hermione winces but stays silent as they head outside.

Cel catches them as they enter, huffing. “I can’t believe he took my book!” Harry exclaims, glowering outside, “He made up that rule.” Cel frowns, scurrying towards them, “What happened?” Harry huffs, “Snape happened.” Her brow furrows looking at Hermione, “What did Professor Snape do, Harry?” Harry fumes, “He took my book because I was outside with a library book. Said it isn’t allowed. A rule he made up to spite me and take points from Gryffindor!” Cel winces, “It isn’t allowed, Harry, if I knew you were taking a library book out, I’d have stopped you. I thought you bought one, Mia?” Hermione shakes her head, “I didn’t, I was borrowing it,” she frowns, “I didn’t realize that was a rule.” Cel winces again, “Madam Pince found some younger students sitting on them to keep from touching the cold stone. She was furious, made it a rule immediately.” Hermione winces, glancing at Harry, “Sorry, Harry.” The raven-haired boy scoffs, “That’s ridiculous, I’m going to talk to Snape and get it back.” His sister rolls her eyes, “Don’t worry, Harry, I have a copy. It’s my copy too.” But Harry doesn’t hear, just stomps off to find the Potions Master. “What is Harry’s problem with him?” Cel asks as they head to Gryffindor Tower. “He’s a cruel, heartless wanker,” Ron states irritably. Hermione gasps, “Ron!”

“It’s true,” Ron exclaims. “It is not,” Cel furiously states, “I don’t understand your and Harry’s hatred for him.” Ron scoffs, “You wouldn’t because you’re his bloody favorite. Getting top marks with every potion, and points for Slytherin.” Cel frowns, “You don’t like him because he values me? Really, Ron? He gives Hermione points!” Ron huffs, “Not as many as he gives you.” Hermione clears her throat, “Maybe because mine aren’t perfect, Ron, and hers are.” Ron sneers, “No, it’s favoritism. He bullies Neville.” Cel gasps, “He does not! He tells him what he is doing wrong, pure and simple?! How is that bullying?” Ron glares at her, “He does it in every bloody class, Cel!” before giving the Fat Lady the password. Cel crosses her arms, “He messes something up every single class, Ronald.” Hermione swallows, as they step into the red common room, “So what are you reading, Cel?” trying to calm the tensions. Cel deflates, glancing at her with a wince, “Trying to get ideas for Christmas gifts,” mouthing ‘sorry.’ Hermione gives her a soft understanding smile. Whenever Harry’s not with them Ron tries his hardest to aggravate her, it’s almost as he likes her attention even if its fury.

Harry enters in a rush and Ron glances away from Cel to grin at him, “Did you get it?” then frowns, “What’s wrong?” Harry pants as he sits down, eagerly beginning his tale, “I learned why Snape was limping, he was bitten by that dog we saw. I heard him talking about it and saw a bite on his leg.” Cel gasps but her brother continues, “You know what it means? Snape tried to get passed it on Halloween. He’s after whatever it’s guarding! And bet my broomstick _he_ let the troll in, to make a diversion!” Hermione gasps, looking wide-eyed at Cel, who’s glaring at Harry. “No—he wouldn’t,” the Gryffindor says, “I know he’s not the nicest,” she sends Cel an apologetic glance, “but he wouldn’t try and steal something Dumbledore was keeping safe.” Ron rolls, “Honestly, Hermione, you think all teachers are saints or something,” he snaps, “I’m with Harry. I wouldn’t put it anything past Snape. But what’s he after? What’s that dog guarding?” Cel glares at them both, before bidding them a curt, “Goodbye,” then storming out the tower.

_ Honestly, those boys! Thinking he’d steal something from his boss. Like he’d want to possibly have a student injured! Why in Merlin’s name did Hagrid have to pick up the darn package when “I can’t leave anything alone even if it’ll kill me” Harry was with him? _Lily silent fumes as she walks, her path to the dungeon memorized. _If it’s one thing my brother can’t stand is a freaking mystery. Those were the only books he’d read, dreamed of being a detective. Ugh!_ She finds herself at the Potions Master’s office, where she knocks. She hears grumbling and uneven sound of footsteps. His face is twisted in a scowl until his black eyes land on Lily and soften. Taking one look at her face, he sighs, then opens the door, “Come in, Miss Potter.” Lily does, not looking at him before sitting where she usually does. “What is the matter?” Professor Snape asks, closing the door. “Harry thinks you’re trying to steal the package that the three-headed dog is guarding,” she says in one breath, “Ron agrees.” Snape’s eyes widen, “How do you know anything about that dog?” Lily winces, “We found it accidentally the second week of school. Hermione and I saw the trap door it’s standing on. And we were with Hagrid when he got something from the Gringotts vault that was broken into on the same day.” Lily looks up at him, sadly, “Harry won’t let it go. And now he has this idea that you’re trying to steal whatever it is.” Snape’s jaw tightens, “Stay here, Miss Potter. I’m getting Dumbledore.” Lily nods, taking her book out on charms, “I’ll stay here, Professor.”

“Ah, Miss Potter,” Dumbledore greets looking curiously at his Potion’s Master then smiling at the nervous first year, “Professor Snape has told me what you’ve said. Are you sure your brother will not leave it alone?” Lily nods, “I am, Headmaster. Especially now that he thinks Professor Snape is trying to steal it. He probably thinks it’s the best way to prove his loyalty.” Dumbledore hums, “And why does he think that Severus is trying to steal it?” Lily looks away muttering something. “What was that my dear,” Dumbledore asks, watching the girl sigh, “Harry hates him.” Dumbledore frowns looking at Snape, “And why is that, dear?” Lily looks away, “He hates all snak—Slytherins and he thinks Professor Snape is a bully to any of those not in his House.” Dumbledore hums once more, “I see. But he does not hate you, correct?” Lily flinches, “He thinks I don’t belong there. Its why he tries to keep me away from those of my House, so they can’t,” her nose crinkles, “corrupt me.” The Headmaster sighs, “Thank you, Miss Potter. You can go.” Lily nods and standing then walking toward the door where she pauses, “I’ll try to stop him, Professor, but if I know him, he won’t stop. But I’ll try my best.” Two sets of eyes follow her out.

“You are correct, Severus,” Dumbledore states, closing the door with a flick of his hand, “she is quite remarkable. I am glad that the fears of an old man, were wrong about her.” Snape snorts, “She is too much like her mother to turn out like the Dark Lord, Albus.” Dumbledore smiles, hearing the soft adoration in his tone, “Yes, but there were moments I feared.” Severus looks at him, “The sorting into Slytherin…” Albus nods, “Yes, and the slight nervousness of a few of her housemates, their quick acceptance of her I thought as loyalty. She’s brilliant too as was he, I’ve been informed that she nearly mastered her accidental magic as a child and is surpassing many of her peers. Then she befriended not one but two Muggle-borns and got three Pureblood heirs to accept them. I think there is more to her than we have yet to see.” The Potion’s Master nods, “I believe that as well. Did you see that book she was reading?” his companion shakes his head, “The Charms book for third years.” Albus chuckles, “She’s like her mother than, I see…” Snape nods, “She’s brilliant and talented, nearly the first in every class to succeed and her potions are basically perfect. I’ve been thinking of giving her advanced tutoring, as some of the others are considering doing as well.” Dumbledore hums, “Hold off for now,” Snape’s jaw tightens, “I think the dual loyalties are taking a slight toll on the young girl. But I agree, she’s brilliant and she’s the best that Slytherin as had for many decades. Good day, Severus.” His Potion master dips his head, “Good day Albus.” The headmaster is silent as he walks to his office_, she is one I will endeavor to watch closely._

Sophie and the boys apologize to Lily once she enters, surprised when she waves it away, “It doesn’t matter. Sorry for being prickly.” The Slytherins share concerned glances as she begins helping them with their homework. When they’re done, she curls up and reads from her book, her head on Theo’s shoulder, her feet on Blaise’s lap and a purring Aquila on her lap as Sophie and Draco play wizard’s chess. Each making a silent vow not to make this more difficult for her.

-~=~-~=~-~=~-

Morning comes early, and the Slytherins manage to convince Celeste to eat breakfast with her brother and she promises to watch the match with them. “You’ve got to eat some breakfast,” she hears Hermione prod Harry. She frowns sitting beside her brother as his nose wrinkles, “I don’t want anything.” Hermione glances at Cel concerned, “Just a bit of toast.” Harry shakes his head, “I’m not hungry.” Cel bumps into him, “Harry, you’ll need your strength.” Seamus nods, Seekers are always the ones who get clobbered by the other team.” Cel glares at him as Harry swallows, “Thanks, Seamus.” His sister smiles at him, “You’ll be amazing I know it.” Harry chuckles meekly, “Thanks Cel.” With her and Hermione’s prodding, he manages to eat something and before they know it, it’s time to head to the Quidditch pitch. “Really?” Draco whines, his eyes narrowed at the scarf around Celeste’s neck as they head off. She rolls her eyes, “Yes, really,” rubbing the red and gold scarf, “George lent it to me.” Blaise shakes his head seeing her blush, “You fancy him.”

“Maybe, I do,” Lily sniffs. Internally rolling her eyes. The Weasley twins are nice but she wouldn’t say she fancies them. She blushes when her eyes land on another Weasley, one who shyly smiles at her with his Prefect badge glistening on his chest. The Gryffindor Prefect practically made it his duty to return her to the Slytherin Dungeon if the gold trio keeps her longer. Lily even gets the older boy to talk to her, finding his interests fascinating. It wasn’t very often but sometimes she’d search for him in the library, then gathering the books he recommends. Somehow the Gryffindors never noticed but the Slytherins apparently have noticed the blush when she rejoins them. They just have it placed on the wrong Weasley. Thank Merlin, that they didn’t think it was Ron… Lily ignores the sneers about her scarf with her head held high. “You’d think they never supported another House team,” Theo scoffs, his eyes narrowing at an older cruel boy. “Not when their team is playing against them,” Lily says, sending a smirk to the cruel boy, “Just ignore them, guys, don’t let them have power over you.” Sophie chuckles, shaking her head in disbelief, “You are amazing!” Lily shrugs, “Nope.” Draco huffs, “Hush,” pointing to the red and green figures, “The game’s starting.”

Lily finds herself torn on who to watch, not wanting to miss a thing. Quidditch in one word is fantastic! Somehow she knows without a doubt where Harry is on the pitch, her eyes always finding him whenever he moves. When Harry zooms after the snitch, she’s watching with rapt attention, growling angrily when Marcus Flint, the Slytherin Quidditch Captain and one of the Chasers nearly kills her brother. Her friends share a worried look as she glares daggers at the older Slytherin. Despite her qualms with the very partial Lee Jordan, she understands his anger._ Oh, are we going to have words, Flint! If this is how Slytherin plays, I will never support my own House ever._ Her silent allegiance changes to Gryffindor and stays. Something prickles the back of her neck, and worriedly her eyes flick to Harry who… who looks like he’s lost control of his broom. Soon everyone’s eyes are on Harry as his broom starts to roll over and over. Then Lily’s heart plummets as the broom wildly jerks causing Harry to swing off, now dangling from it, holding on with one hand. The Slytherins around her are tense seeing the young Potter’s hair dancing with magic. Lily’s eyes are on her brother, almost unblinkingly her mind flipping through spells trying to find one that’ll help. Knowing that this, whatever it is, is Dark magic. No student, through Flint still wouldn’t be let off, could do this. _And however, they better wish that I don’t find them!_

The Weasley twins try to bring Harry to safety, but every time they near him the broom goes higher. So they circle below him, hoping to catch him if, when, he falls. Lily makes a mental note to thank them. Then as suddenly as it began, Harry clampers back on to his broom before zooming speedily to the ground. Lily’s hand is tightly holding Sophie’s near the point of pain but her friend understands. Harry claps his hand to his mouth, looking like he was going to be sick. Honestly, no one would blame him. He hits the field on all fours—coughs—and something gold falls into his hand. “I’ve got the Snitch!” he shouts, waving it above his head and Lily almost collapses to the floor, only being held up by the boys, utterly exhausted. Still though, she runs to the field, hugging Harry tightly, “You had me so worried, Harry!” He returns the hug, grinning as he sees the gold and red scarf around her neck. Hermione and Ron hurry toward them with Hagrid close behind. The giant man takes the four to his hut for a cup of strong tea. “It was Snape,” Ron explains eagerly, “Hermione and I saw him. He was cursing your broom, muttering, he wouldn’t take his eyes off you.”

“Rubbish,” Hagrid exclaims, Celeste agreeing but too tried to say a word, “Why would Professor Snape do somethin’ like that?” The Gryffindors share a look, wondering what to tell him. Harry decides on the truth, “I found out something about him. He tried to get past that three-headed dog on Halloween. It bit him. We think he was trying to steal whatever it’s guarding.” Cel rolls her eyes. _Still on that, are you?_ jumping when Hagrid drops his teapot, “How do you know about Fluffy?” Cel chuckles, shaking her head as Ron exclaims, “_Fluffy_!? That thing has a name?!” Hagrid snorts, “Of course, he has a name. He’s mine—bought him off a Greek chappie I met in the pub las’ year—I lent him to Dumbledore to guard the—” Cel groans as her brother’s eyes light up, “Yes?” Hagrid narrows his eyes at him, “Now, don’t ask me anymore. That’s top-secret, that is.” Cel nearly groans, _don’t tell him that Hagrid. He’ll never let it go now._ “But Snape’s trying to _steal _it?” Harry exclaims. “Rubbish,” Hagrid replies, “Professor Snape’s a Hogwarts teacher, he’d do nothin’ of the sort,” stressing his title. “So why did he just try and kill Harry?” Hermione cries and Cel gapes at her. _Not you too, Hermione. I thought you were smart!_ “I know a jinx when I see one, Hagrid,” she continues.

“I’m tellin’ yeh, yer wrong!” Hagrid says hotly, “I don’t know why Harry’s broom acted like that, but Professor Snape wouldn’ try an’ kill a student! Now, listen to me, all four of yeh—yer meddlin’ in things that don’ concern yeh. It’s dangerous. You forget that dog, an’ forget what it’s guardin’, that’s between Professor Dumbledore an’ Nicolas Flamel—” Harry grins, “Aha! So there’s someone called Nicolas Flamel involved, is there?” Cel groans again, looking at Hagrid who looks furious with himself. They leave after that. “I can’t believe you, Hermione, thinking that—” Hermione spins furiously interrupting her, “I’ve read all about them! You’ve got to keep eye contact, and Snape wasn’t blinking at all, I saw him!” Cel gapes at her, “So have I, Hermione! I wasn’t blinking either or are you trying to say I was cursing my brother too!” She growls, “And you know what also requires eye contact, counterspells. Did you think, that maybe, just maybe, Professor Snape tried to save him! No?! Well then…” she sniffs, her eyes turning to her brother, “If you don’t leave this alone, I will tell the Headmaster and Professor McGonagall. Maybe, instead of worrying about something that doesn’t concern you, you can, oh, I don’t know focus on school!” She huffs, “Have a good day,” before spinning on her heel and leaving them swallowing nervously behind.

“Flint!” Lily exclaims. The older boy sneers, before glancing at her and swallowing, seeing her magic coursing around her furiously. “Mind telling me why you tried to kill my brother!?” she continues, inflamed, not noticing the unease around her. “If you didn’t notice, I didn’t,” Flint states smugly. She growls, “And if you didn’t notice, I said ‘tried to,’ Flint. And I don’t support cheaters, or are you afraid to play at their level?! Are they that much better than you?” Flint growls, ignoring his teammates’ warnings, stalking toward her “Just see here, little Gryffindor lover, you don’t know how things are run around here.” Lily snorts, looking up at him, “I know quite well how things are done! I thought this was the house of cunning, of ambition, not of sore cheaters.” She huffs, glancing at the Quidditch team then at their captain, “But, I guess I was wrong.” Lily clicks her tongue, sadly before walking to her friends, internally grinning at the silence around her. _At least maybe, the House of Snakes might become better._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It was hard to write Hermione becoming friends with the Slytherins knowing that I'd break them apart. But it feels like something Hermione would do having friends in her own house. She knows that Harry and Ron despise Slytherin and she isn't quite that brave to bridge that gap. I thought it was important to show her that Slytherins aren't evil. Celeste's frustrations with the golden trio are mine whenever I read the book. Anyway, our next chapter is Christmas then a chapter that's all original.  
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Thanks for reading! I hope ya'll enjoy it and sorry for any mistakes. Positive feedback is greatly appreciated!


	12. Christmas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Italic are thoughts*  
*Underlined and italicized words are books*  
~ Happy Reading! ~

Chapter 12 | Christmas

-~=~-~=~-~=~-

Celeste stops sitting with the Gryffindor trio to prove her irritation with them. Of course, she still sits at the table of red on the traditional days, sitting to talk with the older Weasleys or other first years Gryffindors. Managing to extend her group of friends, which now include even some first-year Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs. As December approaches, she spends most of her time either doing schoolwork or preparing the many Christmas presents she’s chosen to do. However, there are times when she gets dragged outside in the cold. Sometimes by the Weasley twins, giggling as they charm snowballs to follow Quirrell around, hitting the back of his purple turban. Or Sophie to skate on the now frozen Black Lake. Harry takes a lot of convincing mostly by Ron and Hermione to fix things with his sister, as Ron’s upset that Hermione won’t help him with his homework and Hermione, who’s missing her 1st and best friend. But eventually, the Gryffindor trio manages to coax the popular Slytherin back into their group. Which they were grateful for as the young Potter learned a warming charm so they could get through Potions class without freezing. Hermione was furious that Fred and George taught it to Cel, and not to her too.

As Christmas nears, Professor Snape moves along the table of green collecting names of those staying during the holiday break. “Miss Potter, staying or going?” he states, not looking at her. “Staying, Professor,” Lily states. The Potions Master nods moving to the next, Draco winces, “Going, Professor,” looking at her sadly. “It’s okay, Dray,” Lily says smiling slightly, “Your parents are missing you, all of you.” That’s quite right, as everyone even Theo was returning home. “Besides, the Weasleys are staying, and of course so is Harry,” she continues. “Still though,” Sophie cuts in, “You’ll be alone.” Lily shrugs, indifferent. “I could ask if you could come with me,” Draco adds. Lily chuckles, shaking her head, “Your parents don’t even know me, Dray.” The blonde Slytherin frowns as they make their way to Potions. “I do feel so sorry,” Lestrange states loudly later in class, “for all those people who have to stay at Hogwarts for Christmas because they’re not wanted at home.” Draco rolls his eyes, muttering to Lily, “Even my parents don’t want him to come home.” Lily stifles a chuckle, shaking her head at him, “Be nice.” He smirks, before glancing up at Snape, swallowing and hurriedly returning to work.

“Miss Potter, Mister Potter, stay behind,” Snape drawls once Potions is finished. Harry's jaw tightens, Ron and Hermione lag behind. “There is no reason to dawdle, Miss Granger, Mister Weasley,” Snape continues, his eyes flicking to the Gryffindors. Harry nods to them, as Cel walks to the desk, Harry following slowly. “It has come to…” Snape begins, before stopping to look at the door as it opens. He dips his head, “It has come to our attention that the two of you are staying at Hogwarts.” He stops, “It is an odd occurrence,” continues Professor McGonagall, “but we were thinking as you are siblings if you would like to stay together for the holidays.” Celeste spins toward her, “Really?” The Transfiguration teacher chuckles, “Yes, Miss Potter. You could either…” She’s interrupted by Harry, “We’re fine sharing a bed, Professor, we have for nearly ten years. Though I don’t know about Ron.” McGonagall shares a look with Snape, “I will ask Mister Weasley if he is okay with sharing with the two of you or either of his brothers.” Cel’s eyes lower, “I don’t mean to be a burden, Professor, I can stay in my dorm.” McGonagall sighs, “You are not a burden, I just know that siblings as close as yourselves would like to be close especially on Christmas.” Cel looks up, smiling slightly, “Thank you, Professors.” She grins, and Snape nods, “No problem dear. Now off you pop.” The twins' nod before hurrying off.

Hermione and Ron are waiting anxiously outside when they leave. “Honestly, he wasn’t going to kill us,” Cel exclaims. “You never know, Cel,” Ron replies, crossing his arms, “Never trust a snake.” She glares at him, huffing before walking away. Hermione huffs, “Honestly, can you just not! You remember she is a Slytherin, right?” when they reach the stairs and head up, their path is blocked by a large fir tree with two enormous feet sticking out at the bottom. A loud puffing sound tells them that Hagrid is behind it. “Hi Hagrid, want any help?” Ron asks, sticking his head through the branches. “Nah, I’m alright, thanks Ron,” Hagrid replies, though huffs. “Would you mind moving out of the way?” a sneer comes from behind them, “Are you trying to earn some extra money Weasley? Hoping to be gamekeeper yourself when you leave Hogwarts, I suppose—that hut of Hagrid’s must seem like a palace compared to what your family’s used to.” Ron growls, lunging at Malfoy just as Snape walks up the stairs, “WEASLEY!” Ron lets go of the front of Malfoy’s robes. “He was provoked, Professor Snape,” Hagrid replies, sticking his huge hairy face out from behind the tree, “Malfoy was insultin’ his family.” Snape’s eyes narrow at the two boys. Draco’s swallow going unnoticed by the Gryffindors but not Hagrid. “Be that as it may, fighting, provoked or not, is against Hogwarts rules, Hagrid,” Snape says silkily, “Five points from Gryffindor, Weasley, and be grateful it isn’t more. Move along all of you.” His eyes flick to his godson, and narrow, whispering, once again unnoticed by the students in red, “I’ll deal with you later.” Draco winces but nods minutely, squeezing past the tree with Blaise and Theo behind him, each mumbling apologies to the giant. “I’ll get him” Ron growls, grinding his teeth at Malfoy’s back, “one of these days, I’ll get him—” Harry crosses his arms, “I hate them both, Malfoy and Snape. Too bad Cel doesn’t listen to reason.” There’s running footsteps and Hagrid chuckles, “Hello Cel.”

“It’s a beautiful tree, Hagrid,” Celeste replies. “Stunning…” Harry mumbles. Cel says something and the tree lifts and the needles the Slytherins scattered replace themselves on the tree. “Come on, cheer up, it’s nearly Christmas,” Hagrid says, chuckling at the hovering tree, “tell yeh what, come with me an’ see the Great Hall, looks a treat.” Cel nods, joining the Gryffindor trio having the tree follow after Hagrid, who takes it as they near the Great Hall. “Ah, Hagrid, the last tree,” Professor McGonagall says as she and Professor Flitwick are putting up the Christmas decorations, “put it in the far corner, would you?” The hall looks spectacular. Garlands of holly and mistletoe hung all around the walls and twelve Christmas trees are scattered around the room, some sparkling with icicles, others glittering with candles. “How many days you got left until yer holidays?” Hagrid asks. “Just one,” Hemione replies, “And that reminds me—Harry, Ron, we’ve got half an hour before lunch, we should be in the library.” Cel rolls her eyes as Ron tears his eyes away from Professor Flitwick, now decorating the new tree with golden bubbles, “Oh yeah, you’re right.”

“The Library?” Hagrid asks, following them out of the hall, “Just before the holidays? Bit keen, aren’t yeh?” Cel crosses her arms, “They aren’t studying.” Harry winces, before grinning, “Ever since you mention Nicolas Flamel we’ve been trying to find out who he is.” Hagrid looks horrified, “You _what_? Listen here—I’ve told yeh—drop it. It’s nothin’ to you what that dog’s guardin’.” Cel nods in agreement, she’s been doing all she can to stop them, being successful so far. “We just want to know who Nicholas Flamel is, that’s all,” Hermione replies. “Unless you’d like to tell us and save us the trouble?” Harry adds, “We must’ve been through hundreds of books already and we can’t find him anywhere—just give us a hint—I know I’ve read his name somewhere.” Hagrid shakes his head, “I’m sayin’ nothin’.” _Said too much already…_ “Just have to find out for ourselves then,” Ron says, and the trio of Gryffindors leaves a disgruntled Hagrid, hurrying off to the library. “Don’t worry, Hagrid,” Cel says, giving him a hug, “I’ve already got the book they’re needing. And Professor Dumbledore already knows.” Then she skips off.

Ron had no problem with Celeste joining them in their dormitory. So Celeste and Aquila with her trunk are now comfortably set up in the Gryffindor first years boys dormitory, her trunk right beside her brother’s. It was strange to wake up after the first night, not seeing the now-familiar peek into the lake but instead red and gold curtains. “What do you mean you’ve never played wizard’s chess?” Cel asks in surprise. “Oh, you have?” Ron snarks back, his eyes widen when she nods. “As a matter of fact, Ron, I have. The boys taught me and Soph the first weekend.” Ron huffs, “Well, at least Harry will have a better teacher than you.” Cel’s jaw tightens but she says nothing curling up with her cat and a book, periodically glancing at the game and rolling her eyes. _Honestly, Harry, you are a horrible strategist. _She is surprised that Ron is nearly on par with Theo and Draco on skill. Thankfully, though the boys never drag her to the library or even mention Nicolas Flamel.

-~=~-~=~-~=~-

“Merry Christmas, Harry!” Celeste squeals, shaking her brother awake. Harry groans, trying to roll over before recognizing the excitement in her voice. She giddily puts his glasses on before waking up Ron. Ron groans and she shakes him again, “Wake up, it’s Christmas, Ron!” Ron pushes her away lightly before stretching out with a yawn, “Merry Christmas, Harry.” Cel rolls her eyes, “Come on, I want to see the tree!” Harry chuckles, watching her toss the boys their bathrobes before she puts on her own. Ron huffs, following behind them before grinning when he sees the tree and running to it. Cel rolls her eyes but Harry’s eyes widen, “We’ve got presents!” before pulling his sister by the hand and stopping next to the beautiful tree. The first presents the twins open are wrapped in thick brown paper from Hagrid, a roughly cut wooden Owl flute for Harry and a carved Owl for Celeste. The second is a very small parcel contained in a note;

=-~-=-~-=-~-=

We received your message and gift, and we have enclosed your Christmas present.

From Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia, and Dudley

=-~-=-~-=-~-=

Taped to it, is two fifty-pence pieces one for each twin. Harry snorts, “That’s friendly, but what present…” He looks up at Cel who swallows, “I may have sent something from the two of us.” Ron stares at the two fifty-pence pieces, fascinated, “_Weird_! What a shape. This is _money_?” Cel and Harry share a look, laughing. “You can keep it,” Harry replies, turning to the pile, “Hagrid, the Dursleys—so who sent these?” looking at the remaining gifts. “One is from me,” Cel replies, rolling her eyes, “Obviously.” Harry glares at her. “I think I know who those are from,” Ron says, turning rather pink as he points three matching very lumpy parcels, “My mum. I told her you didn’t expect any presents and—oh, no,” he groans, “she’s made you Weasley sweaters.” Cel tosses Harry his present while Ron opens his. “Every year she makes us a sweater,” Ron continues, “and mine’s _always_ maroon.” Cel’s eyes widen as she takes out a thick, hand-knitted sweater in sapphire blue. Looking at awe to Harry, whose holding one in emerald green. Both sweaters came with large boxes of homemade fudge. “That’s nice of her,” Harry replies, watching his sister eagerly put it on as he tries the very tasty fudge.

“This one next,” Cel demands, giving Harry and Ron nicely wrapped packages and pulling three other’s with the same paper off to the side. Harry gapes at his sister when he reveals not one but three presents. Ron’s cheeks are pink as he unwraps a knitted red scarf with a golden lion and a lion badge. Harry and Ron stares at the scarf as the lion roars and moves. “The lion badge will roar when you need uplifting, Ron,” Cel says, smiling as he looks up at her, “How did you afford this?” She chuckles, “Everything is made by hand except for…” being interrupted by Harry’s gasp as he opens one of the gifts, a set of new wizards chess pieces. “That,” she chuckles. “How did you manage this, Cel?” Harry asks, now watching a miniature Harry catch a small Golden Snitch in a glass ball. “I studied,” is the simple reply as Harry opens the third, a knitted ruby red scarf with Golden Snitches flying around the ends. “My present isn’t near as good,” Harry mutters as she grabs his sad attempt at wrapping. His sister rolls her eyes, before they widen, as she sees a lily necklace and a lion charm bracelet, “It’s perfect.”

“I wonder who these are from,” Harry states, handing Cel two presents wrapped with the same paper as he sits with two of his own. He gawks at the contents when he opens the first; a couple pairs of new pants, a few nice but casual collared shirts and a red jumper. Cel gasps, holding a note slightingly to her chest before handing it to Harry to read;

=-~-=-~-=-~-=

Celeste and Harry

I adored your present. Your uncle snapped his in half, then threw it into the fire. So could you add yourselves because, despite your uncle, you are part of our family.

I’m saddened that you will not be here, but I also understand. I hope everything fits and that you manage to share the peppermint bark, it was difficult to make without you, Celeste. Thank you for speaking to your Headmaster about how we can get in touch with you.

Sincerely yours,

Aunt Petunia

=-~-=-~-=-~-=

“Wow,” Harry says, staring at the clothes in shock as Cel nods. “What did you give them?” Ron asks. “I enchanted a metal charm to change between two colors to show if each wearer is healthy, made one for each,” Cel replies, “I wanted to slowly show them that magic isn’t all bad.” Harry whistles lowly, _leave it to Cel to be bloody brilliant._ Aunt Petunia sent Cel a couple of nice dresses, two pairs of lightly heeled shoes, and some homemade peppermint bark, which she shares a piece with both boys. The second presents are from Dudley as both have notes.

=-~-=-~-=-~-=

Harry,

Piers saw this in a store window the other day and wanted it. Thought it would be funny if it was gone when he went back to get it.

Dudley

=-~-=-~-=-~-=

Came with a new pair of shoes that Harry gawks at. Cel stares in awe as she lifts a necklace out of a box, a rhinestone owl sitting on a moonstone crescent moon. “Dudley got you that?” Harry exclaims. His sister nods, reading aloud;

=-~-=-~-=-~-=

Celeste,

It was a cool gift. Piers is jealous that you didn’t think of him too. He wanted to get you something to make you feel guilty. I brought it before he could.

Just want to tell you, you and Harry are family. I’d like to know how you are too besides Mum.

Dudley

=-~-=-~-=-~-=

“Piers likes you?” Harry says, wrinkling his nose, “Gross.” Cel rolls her eyes, “I thought he might but this… wow…” putting it on as Harry turns to his last two presents, handing the ones with matching wrapping to Ron and Cel, gifts from Hermione.

Ron’s is a box of Bertie Bott’s Every Flavor Beans, while Harry’s is a large box of Chocolate Frogs. “Oh thank you, Hermione!” Cel exclaims, hugging a book, _A Healer’s Helpmate_, to her chest. “Only you’d be happy with a book,” Ron snorts, seeing she’s also gotten a large box of Chocolate Frogs from the Gryffindor bookworm. Cel rolls her eyes before pulling her remaining gifts off to the side. “Why’d you do that?” Harry asks, concerned. “They’re from my friends,” Cel replies, crossing her arms, “I thought you wouldn’t like to see what they gave me.” Ron perks up, “Open them.” Harry nods, curious about what the house of snakes has given her. Cel rolls her eyes, “After Harry’s done.” He rolls his eyes before picking up his last gift. It’s very light, and he unwraps it gently, reveling something fluid and silvery gray that slithers to the floor where it lays in gleaming folds. Ron gasps, saying in a hushed voice, “I’ve heard of those,” putting down his box of Bertie Bott’s Every Flavor Beans, “if that’s what I think it is—they’re really rare and _really _valuable.” Cel stares at it as Harry picks it up, asking, “What is it?” Cel has a very bad feeling as Ron looks at it in awe, “It’s an invisibility cloak. I’m sure it is—try it on.” Harry does and Ron gasps, nearly falling to the floor, “It _is_! Look down!”

Harry’s body is gone, just his head looking like it’s hovering in midair. He glances at Cel before lifting the hood and disappearing completely. “There’s a note!” Ron exclaims, “A note fell out of it!” Harry, gratefully, pulls off the cloak then grabs the piece of paper, reading aloud:

=-~-=-~-=-~-=

Your father left this in my possession before he died. It is time it was returned to you.

Use it well.

A Very Merry Christmas to you.

=-~-=-~-=-~-=

The twins share a look as Ron admires the cloak, “I’d give _anything_ for one of these. _Anything._ What’s the matter?”

“Nothing,” Harry replies, but Cel knows he’s lying. _Who sent the cloak? Was it really once Dad’s?_ Before Cel can say anything Fred and George Weasley bounds down the stairs, already wearing the same blue sweaters as Cel, but with a large “G” on one, and a large “F” on the other, “Merry Christmas!” Harry stuffs the cloak out of sight. “Hey look—Cel and Harry got Weasley sweaters, too!” George exclaims. “Theirs are better than ours though,” Fred says, eyeing the sweaters both are wearing, “She obviously makes more of an effort if you’re not family.” George narrows his eyes at his brother, “Why aren’t you wearing yours, Ron? Come on, get it on, they’re lovely and warm.” Ron moans halfheartedly, pulling it on, “I hate maroon.” George’s head tilts, “You haven’t got a letter on yours. I suppose she thinks you don’t forget your name. but we’re not stupid—we know we’re called Gred and Forge.” The redhead twins grin as Cel giggles. “What’s all this noise?” Percy demands, stopping to overlook the common room, a red jumper over his shoulder. Cel blushes as he joins them. Which thankfully goes unnoticed, as Fred seizes Percy’s jumper. “P for prefect! Get it on, Percy, come on, we’re all wearing ours even Harry and Cel.”

“I—don’t—want—” Percy says thickly, as his twin brothers force the sweater over his head, knocking his glass askew. “And you’re not sitting with the Perfects today, either,” George adds, “Christmas is a time for family,” before pushing the prefect in a nearby chair, his arms pinned to his sides by the sweater. Percy glares at them as they sit on either side giddily. Cel swallows, before collecting the three packages she put off to the side earlier, all wrapped in the same paper. “Merry Christmas,” putting a package on each boy's lap. The redhead twins tear into theirs, grinning to each other when they see it, pulling out matching red scarves, that have gold Bludgers flying around at the ends. “Thanks, Cel,” both say as one, getting up to hug the Slytherin before returning to their brother’s side, “Whatcha get, Perc?” The prefect looks at her, before gingerly opening it, “Oh Perc got one, too.” Harry glances at his blushing sister, “How many scarves did you make, Cel?” She swallows, “Nine or so.” There’s a gasp, and all eyes flick to Percy, now holding a sphere with a small willow inside. The boys all gape at it as Percy looks up at Celeste, “You did it!” Cel nods, smiling shyly, “I did. I couldn’t of without your help though, Percy. So I wanted you to have one as a thank you.” Ron and Harry share a glance, “There’s more?”

“There is,” Cel replies, blushing, “I made one for all the professors. It replicates the seasons on the tree.” Fred whistles lowly as George asks, “Why a willow?” Cel blinks, “It’s my and my mother’s wand wood.” Silence falls with that as Percy wraps a sapphire blue scarf with golden moving lions around his neck. “Come on, breakfast is starting soon,” Ron states, breaking the silence and everyone breaks into laughter before heading down for breakfast. “Thank you, Cel,” Percy whispers to Cel as they’re on their way, “I’ll treasure it.” Percy notices that she blushes all the way to breakfast. The Hall is as gorgeous as always but there’s only one table where all those who stayed, being very few, sit. Even the teachers leave the High Table to sit and chat with their students. Each thanks her and Harry for the beautifully created spheres causing the Slytherin to blush all through the meal. She also hands Dumbledore and Hagrid a package. Dumbledore chuckles in delight as he holds up a pair of red knitted socks. His twinkling eyes winking at her as he thanks her, “Just what I wanted this year.” Hagrid hugs her tightly, crying lightly after opening his, a recipe book and a long knitted scarf with dragons flying at the ends. She has the boys return to Gryffindor Tower without her, watching them disappear before skipping on her way.

A man glares at the door, putting the object down, growling as he nears the door, “What is it?” he sneers, opening it, blinking blanking at the young girl grinning at him, “Merry Christmas, Professor Snape.” He glances down the hallway, “What are you doing here, Miss Potter?” Unperturbed, she smiles holding up a box, “Giving you your gift, Professor.” His eyes narrow at it, then her, “I already received the Williow sphere.” Her grin brightens, “I know but that was for all my teachers, this,” holding it up again, “is only for you! May I please come in?” Snape sighs, stepping aside to let the insufferable girl in his office, closing the door. “Did you like it, sir,” she asks, eyeing the sphere on his desk. He sighs heavily, “I did, Celeste, it’s quite a beautiful piece of magic,” watching her light up with his praise. _So much like her mother… _he sighs once more, moving to a cabinet and pulling out a nicely wrapped present, “Just so happens I have a gift for you as well,” handing it to his student, who gasps. Celeste gingerly takes it, opening it almost relevantly to reveal a drawing pad, an art case with her name engraved on it, and… Her eyes glisten lifting the picture, “Mom,” they flick to him, “Thank you, Professor.” Before surprising them both by hugging him. His dark eyes close, hugging her back, “You are welcome, little Lily.”

“Now what is it that you got for me?” Snape says when the sniffing girl pulls away. Celeste says nothing, simply handing him the box. Curiously he takes it, opening it tenderly, gasping when he sees what is inside. His student looks up as he pulls out a crystal ball, “I was thinking of doing that for all the professors, but I didn’t think…” she trails off seeing her Professor staring in awe at the golden lily that opens in his hands. Seeing that she grins, “It’s only meant to do that if you feel love, and it’s only connected to you. Won’t work for anyone else.” Somehow he manages to tear his eyes away, “You’ve outdone yourself, little Lily.” Cel smiles slightly, shrugging, “I wanted you to have something special. I’m happy to say everything was hand made too.” Snape shakes his head at her, “Go join your brother.” Lily chuckles, before surprising her teacher with a light kiss on the cheek, “That’s from Mum,” then disappearing, tightly hugging the presents to her chest as she races back to Gryffindor Tower. Where she says her own special password and enters. “Where you’d get that?” Ron asks, as his brothers are now opening their presents. “Found them in my dorm,” Cel lies easily, “Look Harry, a picture of Mum,” handing him a picture of their mother at their age playing joyfully in the snow, written under:

Lily Evans

Christmas 1971

“Wow,” Harry says as Ron and the Weasleys come look at it too. “She’s pretty,” Fred states. “You do look just like her, Cel,” Percy adds. “Thank you,” the first year whispers, smiling slightly at the boys. Ron and Harry eagerly pull her back to the present, demanding at she open the rest now. Cel rolls her eyes before sitting down as the two bring over her remaining five presents. The first has her name written in slightly familiar writing and is pristinely wrapped in green and quite heavy. Cel gasps as she sees the first item. “Of course a book,” Ron mutters, “Typical.” The Slytherin rolls her eyes, picking up _Magical Studies_ and putting it off to the side, revealing the next items, a luxury eagle quill laying on the top of green fabric. Putting the quill off to the side, she begins to lift the green fabric, gaping when she realizes what it is, a sparkling emerald green dress. Fred whistles, “Mum was admiring that style for Ginny but it’s high wizarding style. Know who gave it to you?” Cel stares at it blankly, as Harry grabs a note which she takes, “The Malfoys.” George nods, “Seems in their taste. They say why?” Cel reads the gorgeous handwriting of Lady Malfoy.

=-~-=-~-=-~-=

Lily,

I hope that you don’t see this as too peculiar and I must say that I wish I could meet you in person. Draco has told us a lot about you.

I was hoping for you to attend our New Years Ball, the Malfoys hold every year. But as it is late notice, I do understand why. Though maybe I could convince someone to let you come all the same, which is what the dress is for.

Draco told us that you find the creation of spells interesting so I hope the book interests you. He also tells us what a diligent student you are and as such a new quill is always handy.

Hope you are having a marvelous Christmas,

Lady Vega Narcissa Malfoy

=-~-=-~-=-~-=

“For a party, they throw,” Cel replies, “She thinks she can convince someone to bring me.” The boys whistle, the older ones returning to their gifts as Cel moves to the next one. She gets her own wizard’s chess set in multicolored crystal, that the boys gawk at, and Glacial Snowflakes, wizard candy, from Theo. Sugar Quills, that Ron pouts at, and a crystal ball filled with an ever color-changing flame from Blaise. From Sophie, Saltwater Taffies, that she shares a few with the boys, and an assortment of Muggle pens, the Weasleys find fascinating, that Soph enchanted to never run out of ink. Lastly, from Draco, she gets a silver charm bracelet with a flat metal heart near the clasp and only one charm, a silver snake with emeralds. Once everything is open, Celeste carries all her gifts upstairs putting each relevantly in her trunk before noticing a package that wasn’t there before. Something tells her to open it here and she carefully does, gasping when her fingers touch shining, silvery cloth, like water woven into the material. As with Harry’s, it comes with a note in the same narrow, loopy writing,

=-~-=-~-=-~-=

I fear I may have made your quest all the more difficult. It took me a while to find another like your father’s.

Use it well.

A Very Merry Christmas to you.

=-~-=-~-=-~-=

It may not be her father’s but… well, it’s close enough. She tucks it carefully in her truck as Harry and Ron enter with their things. Then the Weasleys manage to pull them outside, where Celeste convinces the boys to skate with her and they enjoy themselves in the snow until lunch.

Christmas lunch is spectacular, once more everyone at one table but it’s more like a dinner. A hundred fat, roasted turkeys; mountains of roast and boiled potatoes; platters of chipolatas; tureens of putter peas, silver boats of thick, rich gravy and cranberry sauce—and stacks of wizard crackers every few feet along the table. They are nothing like what the Potter twins are used too with little plastic toys and flimsy paper hats. Harry pulls one with Fred that sounds like a cannon firing and covers everyone in blue smoke while it releases a real admiral’s hat and several live, white mice. Dumbledore even swaps his wizard’s hat for a flowered bonnet, chuckling merrily with Professor Flitwick at a joke he just read. Flaming pudding follows the turkey and Percy nearly breaks his teeth on a silver sickle embedded in his slice. Hagrid gets redder and redder in the face as he calls for more wine, before kissing Professor McGonagall on the cheek, who then giggles and blushes, ignoring her lopsided top hat.

When Celeste and the Gryffindors finally leave the table, they are once more laden with things from the crackers. Ron convinces Celeste and Harry to break in their new chess pieces to a game with each other. Ron helping Harry while Cel would take light advice from Percy. Harry lost spectacularly, both boys demanding a rematch unaccepting of their defeat. This time Cel beat them alone and Ron demands a one-on-one match which was more balanced but the redhead still lost. After a meal of turkey sandwiches, crumpets, trifle, and Christmas cake, delivered to the common rooms, no one feels like moving. Far too comfortable in front of the roaring fire, and watching Percy chase Fred and George all over the room because they stole his prefect badge.

_ By far the best Christmas ever! _Harry thinks, watching his sister staring out the window at the falling snow. But something felt different like something is nagging at the back of his head. It isn’t until the twins climb into bed, that Harry realizes what: the invisibility cloak and whoever sent it. Harry glances at Ron, finding him already asleep. So carefully he leans over the side of the bed and pulls the cloak out where he had stashed it before lunch. _Dad’s… this was Dad’s_, letting the material flow over his hands, smoother than silk, light as air. “Harry, you okay?” Cel whispers. _Of course, Cel knew I was feeling off._ “Yeah, I’m fine. Just…” he trails off. She sighs, “Want to try it out together, Harry?” His eyes flick to his sister, her eyes reflecting the light of the snow outside. He glances at Ron, _should he come too?_ Harry shakes that away,_ our father’s cloak, this time—the first time is something I want to share with Cel._

Cel’s sitting up when his eyes return to her, and he nods. Silently, the twins put on their slippers and robes before Harry slips the cloak over the two of them and they creep out of the dorm, down the stairs, across the common room, and climb through the portrait hole. “Who’s there?” the Fat Lady squawks, but the twins stay silent. _Where to go?_ Harry ponders, his heart racing with his sister’s. He glances at her and she silently groans but follows, _the Restricted Section._ The library is eerily pitch-black, so Harry lights a lamp. Even to the twins, the lamp looks like it is floating along in midair, and though Harry knew he was holding it, it gives him the creeps. Cel takes the lead to the Restricted Section, unlocking the metal gate separating the section from the others. “Harry this isn’t a good idea…” Cel begins but Harry silences her, beginning to search the shelves and reading the titles, but they didn’t tell him much. Somewhere in language that even Cel didn’t know and some had no title at all.

“Harry, I think I heard one whispering,” Cel whispers. Harry tries to shake that away, even as the back of his neck prickles. Setting the lamp down, he looks for an interesting book, picking a large black and silver volume. It takes both of them to pull it out because it’s so heavy, and balancing it on Harry’s knees let it fall open. Cel’s hand tightens in his as a piercing, bloodcurdling shriek slits the silence, coming from the book. Cel snaps it closed, but the shriek went on and on one high, unbroken, earsplitting note. Harry stumbles back, knocking over the lamp, which goes out at once. Cel hisses at him, “Help!” and he helps her put the book back as they hear footsteps coming down the corridor outside. Managing to put the cloak back on just as they are joined. Holding hands tightly, they run, passing Filch in the doorway; the caretaker’s pale, wild eyes looking straight through them before they slip under his outstretched arm then streak off up the corridor, still hearing the book’s shriek ringing in their ears.

“I told you it wasn’t a good idea,” Cel whispers, hisses more like when they finally stop in front of a tall suit of armor. “I know,” Harry mutters, “you’re always right, but do you know where we are?” Cel narrows her eyes at him, shaking her head. _Great neither of us paid any attention to where we ran,_ Harry grumbles. Cel’s eyes widen, but she shakes whatever thought that was away before pulling Harry into a crevice as they hear two pairs of footsteps. “You asked me to come directly to you, Professor, if anyone was wandering around at night, and somebody’s been in the library—Restricted Section.” The twins share a terrified wide-eyed look because wherever they ended up, Filch must know a shortcut because it was his soft greasy voice getting nearer. “The Restricted Section?” come another familiar voice, and Cel drops her head on Harry’s shoulder. “Well, they can’t be far, we’ll catch them,” Snape continues, turning the corner. Harry as grateful for Cel’s forethought because if they continued the two would have knocked into them—the cloak didn’t stop them from being solid.

The twins have a hand over the other’s mouth as they carefully slip out of the small crevice and through an ajar door to their left. Somehow Harry could hear Cel’s voice telling him to stay calm and breathe normally but silently as the adults walk past, not noticing a thing. Cel retucks her head into his shoulder, muttering, “That was too close.” Harry nods, tucking his head into her shoulder, listening to the footsteps disappearing. Cel lifts her head first, her eyes looking around curiously, “Where are we?” Harry looks too, “An unused classroom?” Cel nods, her eyes taking in the dark shapes of desks and chairs lined against the side walls. It made sense until her eyes landed on something that didn’t seem like it belonged, a magnificent mirror, as high as the ceiling with an ornate gold frame, standing on two clawed feet. Cel nods to it, and curiously, their panic fading, the twins step closer, now seeing an inscription carved around the top:_ Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi._ Wanting to see themselves but seeing no reflection again, they stepped in front of it.

Harry claps his hands to his mouth to stop himself from screaming, whirling around. His heart pounding far more furiously than when the book screamed—for he didn’t only see his sister and himself but a whole crowd of people standing right behind them. “Calm down, Harry,” Cel whispers, “I don’t—I don’t think they are there.” Her eyes flick to the inscription, then back at the mirror. “Then what…” Harry begins but Cel cuts him off, “Look closer.” Harry shakes his head at her, but does so, gasping, seeing a familiar image of his sister and himself but older, “It’s…” Cel looks at him, tears in her eyes, and he puts an arm around her, “Mum and Dad…” Their parents smile at them, tears falling from their mum’s eyes with their dad’s arm wrapped around her. “We look just like them,” Cel whispers, as they look at the others. Aunt Petunia is there, smiling like they never have seen her, standing proudly beside her sister. Behind her, people who could only be their grandparents, both Evans and Potters. “Our family,” Cel continues, before leaning her head on her brother’s shoulder, both having a powerful kind of ache go through them, half joy, half terrible sadness. They lose track of how long they stand there before a noise brings them both to their senses. “Harry, we should go…” Cel whispers, pulling Harry away from the mirror, getting a feeling that this mirror is dangerous, “Harry, come on.” Harry does, tearing his eyes away from their mother’s face, but whispering, “I’ll come back.”

-~=~-~=~-~=~-

“Miss Potter, may I speak to you?” Professor Snape asks, nearing the single table at breakfast. Celeste swallows, nodding before following him nervously, leaving Harry to tell Ron of their misadventure. “It has come to my attention that Madam Malfoy wishes for you to attend her New Year’s ball,” Snape says, looming over her, “and as your temporary guardian whilst you are here I can take you if you wish to go. Do you?” She looks up at him, surprised but nods, “Yes, sir.” He sighs, “Lovely, I can’t tell her I can’t make it then. Madam Malfoy wishes for you to come earlier and reside as their guest. So pack your things and inform your brother, it is best not to keep the Malfoys waiting. I’ll meet you here after lunch.” Cel’s eyes widen before she hurries back to Harry. “What’s up?” Ron asks, looking away from Harry, “Did you get into trouble for last night.” Cel shakes her head, “No. he doesn’t know it was us. He was asking about the New Year’s Ball, Madam Malfoy is having, said I could go.” Harry shakes away his gaze, “Are you? Going, I mean?” She nods, “I was invited, Harry, it would be rude to refuse and they did buy that dress…” Harry rolls his eyes, “Okay, okay, go pack.” Cel grins, kissing his cheek before hurrying upstairs to the Gryffindor common room. Nearly yelling her special password before racing up to the first-year boys' dormitory, and packing everything eagerly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -~=~-~=~-~=~-~=~-~=~-~=~-  
Thanks for reading! I hope ya'll enjoy it and sorry for any mistakes. Positive feedback is greatly appreciated!


	13. New Year's Eve Ball

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Italic are thoughts*  
*Underlined and italicized words are books*  
~ Happy Reading! ~
> 
> This is a purely original chapter. Hope you enjoy it...

Chapter 13 | New Year's Eve Ball

-~=~-~=~-~=~-

“Ready, Miss Potter?” Snape asks, shaking his head at the eager redhead girl, her cat following behind her trunk, “Got everything?” Celeste nods, her eyes flicking behind her, “Aquila, you can’t come with me!” Snape chuckles, “I already informed Madam Malfoy of your cat, Aquila is welcome.” Aquila looks at her almost smugly. Snape shrinks her trunk, putting on a featherlight charm before picking it up and placing it in his pocket. Celeste looks on in awe. He mutters another spell on Aquila, who hisses at him. Which the Potion’s Master ignores as his student picks up the cat, “What did you do?” Snape smirks slightly down at her, “Made him unable to claw you, or anything. Come on.” The professor leads them out of the castle, off the grounds to a small village. “How are we getting there?” Celeste asks, curiously looking around before her eyes return to her Professor. “By Apparition, Celeste,” Snape replies, “Or in your case, Side-Along Apparition.” Cel swallows, “Oh?” Snape chuckles, grabbing her hand and wrapping it around his left arm, then taking the cat from her arms, “Don’t worry, little Lily, just hold on tight.” Both human and cat seem to nod, and, after a security check of his passengers, they disappear with a flick of his cloak.

Celeste’s eyes close, tightening her hold on Snape as she feels hard presses everywhere. She panics as she feels like there are iron bands tightening around her chest, making it hard to breathe. To make matters worse, her eyes and eardrums feel like they’re being pushed farther in then they should. Her constant mantra, _Breathe. Stay calm. Professor Snape wouldn’t let anything happen. You’re okay._ “You can open your eyes now,” Snape chuckles, breaking the silence. Her eyes open, sighing in relief. Now feeling the ground under her feet and sinking to it. “You did well considering,” Snape says, amusement in his voice. Cel swallows as she feels Aquila near her, “Thank you. Does it get easier?” looking up at him. He nods, “With time, yes.” She sighs, glancing at his now offered hand, gingerly taking it. “It’s a slight walk from here,” Snape says, “like Hogwarts, the Malfoys are protective of their home.” It’s not much of a walk when a beautiful rod iron gate appears with a large gold M. They only pause a moment before the gate swings open. Lily’s eyes flick everywhere, trying to take in every detail of the immaculate gardens. Snape shakes his head at her, internally chuckling. Finally, her eyes land on the breathtaking house, a mansion, not a manor. It looms above their heads, it’s windows reflecting the glistening sun. _Gorgeous!_

The Lady of the Manor chuckles as she watches the duo walk to her. _The girl is the image of her mother,_ she thinks, _poor Draco didn’t have a chance._ “Welcome to Malfoy Manor, my dear,” she calls her voice carrying in the wind. The girl’s blue-green eyes flick toward her, and she smiles reassuringly, “I’m Madam or Lady Malfoy. And you must be Miss Celeste Potter.” Lily nods, shyly, “Yes, ma’am. It’s a pleasure to meet you,” curtsying only slightly. _I like her, polite and respectful._ “Have a nice trip?” she asks, glancing questioningly at Severus when the girl winces. “We Apparated, Narcissa,” her husband’s best friend, only friend, responds and her eyes widen, “Oh, you poor darling, come in, come in.” Celeste Potter does, surprised by the gentle hand leading her inside. “Hilley!” Narcissa calls, there’s a small puff and a small creature with large blue eyes and pointed, bat-like ears appears next to the women wearing a fine green silk pillowcase, tied with ribbon around the waist, “Yes, mistress?” Cel startles only slightly, looking at it in awe. “I’m assigning you, Hilley, to care for Miss Potter while she stays.” The small curious creature looks at the young girl, its ears twitching, “It would be an honor, mistress. Does young miss need anything?” Narcissa looks at Lily, chuckling at her wide panicked eyes, “She traveled by Apparition so some peppermint chocolate and a calming tea, Hilley.” The elf nods, disappearing with a puff.

Celeste blinks, before looking up at Narcissa. “Apologies, but what…” stopping herself. But Narcissa understands, “Hilley is a house-elf. She’s quite young now.” Lily nods, “Oh. I’ve never…” Narcissa nods, reassuringly jumping slightly when she feels something rub against her legs. Looking down she sees a slim grey cat. “Aquila!” Lily exclaims, “don’t frighten people,” before looking abashed at Narcissa, “Sorry about him.” Narcissa waves it off, glancing at Severus, shaking his head at them, “You’re staying as well, correct?” Severus sighs, “If she is staying, then so am I, Narcissa. I’m her temporary guardian.” Narcissa smirks, “Good. It’ll be good for you to socialize.” Severus rolls his eyes to Lily’s amusement. “Jaddey!” another house-elf appears, wearing a black sheet like a toga, “Take Miss Potter’s things to the prepared guest room.” Snape hands the miniature trunk to the elf, who bows before disappearing. “Where are Lucius and Draco? I’m surprised the boy isn’t here,” Snape asks, his eyes on the Lady of the Manor. “They’re out, Severus,” Narcissa replies. Snape exhales, “I’ll be in my chambers.” Lady Malfoy dips her head as Snape walks past them.

“Come now, darling,” Narcissa says, her hand back on Celeste’s back. The young girl dutifully follows Narcissa to a room on the right, her eyes looking around in awe at the Slytherin inspired room. Narcissa smiles, noticing the bare charm bracelet on her left wrist as well as another with gold lions and red stones on her right, “Have a good Christmas?” Lily manages to tear her eyes away from her surroundings, “Yes, ma’am, I got more presents then I think I’ve seen in my life. Gave more as well.” Narcissa chuckles, silently noting her words, “Draco quite liked his new scarf.” She blushes at her words, “I’m glad he likes it. Oh, and thank you for my gift.” Lady Malfoy graciously accepts it as Hilley appears, putting a plate of chocolate and small sandwiches beside Lily with a cup of chamomile tea. “Thank you,” Lily tells her, and the elf looks wide-eyed at Narcissa, who’s head is tilted, “Yes, thank you, Hilley.” The elf’s eyes are still wide as she disappears. “Did I do something wrong?” Lily asks, staring at where Hilley disappeared. “No, you didn’t. Unfortunately, old wizarding families like us tend to take our house elves for granted. Most simply forget to be nice to them, saying please or thank you. Some are…” her eyes close, “are unnecessarily cruel.” Lily’s eyes drop, “Oh, sorry.” Narcissa shakes her head, “Not needed, darling. It’s something we need to work on.”

“So Draco says you’re the brightest witch of your year,” Narcissa continues, noting the blush that blooms across her face. “I wouldn’t say that,” Lily replies, “My friend Hermione is brilliant too, as is Draco.” Narcissa tilts her head, “Hermione?” Lily swallows, “A Gryffindor Muggleborn. She was…” she trails off, taking a deep breath, “she was friends with Theo, Blaise, Sophie, and Draco until Halloween then she chose my brother and Ron Weasley.” Narcissa hears the sadness in her voice, “But she’s friends with you still, correct?” She nods, “Yes, mostly because Harry and Ron try to keep me away from my housemates.” Lady Malfoy hums, “I see…” just as the front door opens. It isn’t long before they enter the side room. “Get everything darlings?” Narcissa asks her eyes on the new arrivals. “We did,” Lucius replies, before noticing the other in the room, “I wasn’t aware we were having guests.” Draco’s eyes following his father’s, grinning when his eyes land on, “Lily!” Lucius narrows his eyes at his son, who ignores him heading to the redhead. “Hi, Draco,” Lily says, standing. Both adults surprised by the hug the two share. Draco smirks seeing his charm bracelet, “You’re wearing it.” Lily smiles, chuckling, “Of course, Dray,” lifting an eyebrow, “in less that wasn’t the reason you gave it to me.” The adults chuckle by the panic filtering into their son’s face.

Lily smiles, easing her friend before turning to Lord Malfoy. “You must be the famous Celeste Potter, we’ve been hearing about.” Both first years blush, and both parents are surprised by the glare their son gives them as Lily dips her head, giving the Lord of the House a small curtsy. Lucius gives his wife an amused look, surprised by the girl’s manners. Narciss mouths, 'All her,' and he nods as the third arrival enters with a scowl. “What are you doing here?” Caelum sneers. The older Malfoys carefully watch the young Potter as she gives him a smile, politely saying, “Hello, Lestrange, good holidays?” Lady Malfoy interrupts whatever rude thing her nephew opens his mouth to spew, “Caelum, Celeste is our guest. She’ll be staying until after the New Years Ball.” _I wish until the train to Hogwarts, but Severus will insist on leaving sooner._ The raven-haired boy sniffs, “Lovely,” before turning sharply and walking back out, sending the young Potter one last glare. Celeste deflates once he’s gone, looking sadly at the lord and lady of the house, “I’m sorry. Les—Caelum and I don’t get along…” Draco snorts, “I’m pretty sure he’s the only first-year that isn’t scrambling to be friends with her, well and Pansy. But,” he smirks at his friend, “you didn’t give her much choice but to be friendly with you.” Narcissa lifts an eyebrow, “Oh?” Lily blushes, “She thinks I stole her friends. Told me that she’s the queen bee.” Draco chuckles, “She so isn’t, Slytherin Princess.” Lily gives him a friendly glare, “I’m only called that because of you and Blaise.” Narcissa looks at her husband in amusement, happy her son as such a friend. To finally be a child with, but there is a crush there. Her son can’t hide that from her knowing eyes.

“So,” Narcissa claps, “as you are here for our ball. The important question is do you dance?” Lily nods, “Yes, ma’am. I was in dance before Hogwarts, but,” she looks down, “that’s muggle dances…” Narcissa clicks her tongue, shaking her head, “Nothing to be ashamed of, darling. Hmm, perhaps sometime you could show me.” She watches the young Potter’s eyes widen as she nods eagerly. “Draco and Caelum also will need to practice, so you will join them in their lessons. Now,” Narcissa continues, looking at her clothes, “tell me about your family.” Panic enters Lily’s eyes, “Stars, I should let Aunt Petunia know! How could I forget!” Draco chuckles, his eyes flicking to his mother, “You can borrow Altair.”_He really does trust her_. Narcissa muses after sharing a glance with her husband, _and at least she seems to have at least one to care for her at home._ “You can do that later,” Narcissa waves it away, “Now I know you live with muggles, but not much more than that.” She laughs at her son’s confused face, as Lily clears her throat, “Well… Harry and I live with our Aunt Petunia, Uncle Vernon, and our cousin Dudley.” Lucius frowns when she stops there, glancing at his wife who’s also frowning. Draco clears his throat, “Have you had a tour yet?” The young Malfoy grins slightly when she brightens, “No, I just barely arrived…”

“Well, then it would be my honor to give you a tour,” Draco replies, giving her a little bow then offering his arm to her, grinning at her happy giggle. _Oh yes, _Narcissa looks at her husband, _he’s definitely a goner._ The two Malfoys’ watch their heir escort the young Potter out of the room. “Sorry about that,” Draco whispers once they’re outside the room. “They are curious,” Lilly shrugs. “Yeah, but…” Draco trails off, nervously. “You told them about me,” Lily replies, almost knowingly. The Malfoy heir blushes, “You weren’t supposed to know that.” Lily giggles, “Don’t worry, Dray. I’ve told my aunt about you too.” He smirks, “Oh?” enjoying the small blush. “Oh hush,” Lily huffs, lightly hitting his shoulder, “So this tour?” He chuckles, “Follow me, my lady. Welcome to Malfoy Manor, home to generations of Malfoys. This is, of course, is the grand foyer and we just left the right drawing-room Mom prefers. We call it the ‘Slytherin’ drawing-room.’ The one on the left is blue,” his voice turns to a whisper, “Mom uses it when she cares that our guests dislike Slytherin.” Lily chuckles, shaking her head and he grins before taking her farther down and continuing.

“Draco, I’ll show her to her room, dear,” Narcissa begins after the tour, “Grandfather wishes to speak to you…” Draco winces, “Yes, Mother,” then turning to Lily, “We’ll go flying later.” Lily nods, hugging him before he leaves, then smiling at Lady Malfoy. “Lord Abraxas will wish to meet you as well, but it is best if he asks for it himself.” The young lady nods, joining her, “What is he like? Dray hardly talks about him.” Narcissa hums beginning to walk, “He wouldn’t. Abraxas is quite rough around the edges and Lady Abraxas smoothed them. With her gone,” she grimaces but Lily nods, “Oh…” The lady of the Manor glances at her, “So do you like flying?” Lily nods, “Yes, Madam Hooch hasn’t let us ‘really’ fly but I enjoy it.” Narcissa hums again, internally laughing as Draco says something similar, “I see. Doesn’t your brother already play Quidditch?” She winces, nodding, “Yes, he does.” _It’s why she’s taking our class slower, though it isn’t punishing him._ “I see,” Narcissa replies, “Is there anything you need to show me your dances?” Lily shakes her head and Narcissa continues, “Madam Delacourt will be here tomorrow for lessons,” clapping, “Perhaps, if you are up for it after, we can go shopping for other essentials.” Lily grins, nodding eagerly once they stop at an ornate door.

“This is your room,” Narcissa states, smiling down at the young girl. Happy to have a young lady to take under her wing. Lily’s eyes widen as she enters. A galaxy painted on the walls and ceiling. “It’s breathtaking,” Lily exclaims, watching a shooting star arch across the room in awe. “It’s the Andromeda suite,” Narcissa whispers. Curious, Lily glances at her, seeing a single tear slip down her cheek. Narcissa smiles at her, “I created it for my older sister, well,” her eyes close, “in her honor.” Lily’s head tilts, “What happened?” Narcissa glances at the walls, “She married a Muggle-born and our mother disowned her for it.” The young girl’s eyes widen, “For marrying a Muggle-born?” Narcissa chuckles darkly, glancing at Lily, “Tradition for old wizarding families like I said somethings need work.” Lily winces, swallowing before asking, “Can I hug you?” Narcissa’s eyes widen before chuckling, “Yes, you may.” Surprised at how fast the young girl does just that. _I finally have the daughter I always wanted… _Once the Lady of the manor leaves, Celeste moves to the desk to write Aunt Petunia.

-~=~-~=~-~=~-

Narcissa’s eyes follow the young dancer as she moves across the room. Soft determination yet serenity on her face as she dances. Narcissa’s eyes flick to the boys who are watching, both their eyes on the twirling girl. Finally, Lily curtsies signifying the end and her audience bursts in applause. Lily grins, blushing shyly but her eyes are sparkling. “Very good, young one,” a foreign voice states, the boys immediately raise as Lily spins toward the source, seeing an older blond woman walking toward her.

“Ballet is not something I see British wizards do,” she continues, “yet you do it well.” Narcissa smiles, “Madam Delacourt, this is Celeste Potter.” Hearing her name, Lily curtsies, “Pleasure to meet you, Madam Delacourt.” Madam Delacourt lifts an eyebrow, “Interesting. Raised by muggles then?” Lily glances at the Malfoys’ before nodding, “Yes, ma’am.” Delacourt nods, “Fascinating. Are you still studying dance?” Lily’s eyes close as she shakes her head, “No, ma’am. I was only allo… it was only because of my school.” Lucius and Narcissa share an uneasy look at what they swear she nearly said, ‘I was only allowed too…’ _I am going to have a word with this Aunt Petunia!_

“Well, I can’t have such talent go to waste,” Madam Delacourt states, “if you are up for it, I could continue teaching you.” Lily’s eyes widen and Madam Delacourt chuckles, “Think on it,” then her eyes flick to the boys, “Have you been practicing?” Lily chuckles taking that as her dismissal to dress appropriately for ballroom dance. When she returns, Madam Delacourt is lecturing Draco and Caelum on the necessity of practice.

Madam Delscourt’s eyes flick to her, once her shoes, another gift from Lady Malfoy, stop clicking on the marble floor. She gives Lily a sharp nod, “Join us, Miss Potter.” Lily’s head bobs before joining the boys before Madam Delacourt. “Have you ever seen a Wizard’s Waltz, Miss Potter?” Lily winces, “No, Madam Delacourt.” The instructor nods, “It is much like the Viennese Waltz,” her eyes flick to the onlookers, “Lord and Lady Malfoy would you do us the honor of showing us.”

“Of course, Madam Delacourt,” Lucius states, standing and offering his hand to his wife, who takes it. Then he leads them both to the ballroom floor, Madam Delacourt flicks her wand, making music start playing, and the couple begins to dance. Lily’s eyes are fervently watching, eager to begin learning as it looks beautiful. Madam Delacourt glances at her, smiling, _finally an enthusiastic student._ Lily claps at the end as the dance instructor turns to the children, “Mr. Malfoy, you will practice first with Miss Potter.” Draco’s nod is curt as he takes Lily’s hand to lead her to the floor, stopping in the center.

“Bow and show me the proper hold,” Madam Delacourt demands, following the two. Draco swallows, bowing at the waist to Lily, who curtsies in response. Then Draco steps closer to her, placing his right arm on Lily’s left shoulder blade. His left-hand takes her right lightly as Delacourt places Lily’s hands in the correct positions. “Remember, Miss Potter, the man leads but it is you who is scrutinized.” Lily nods, glancing at Draco, who smirks as the music begins and he begins to move. Delacourt smiles, seeing the ease that she follows. Narcissa glances at her husband in amusement, whispering, “Seems like it isn’t just Potions that they are in sync.” Lucius chuckles, nodding in agreement. Madam Delacourt claps as the dance is at an end, “You are a natural, Miss Potter. Your turn, Mr. Lestrange, I expect you to make your name proud.” Draco glances apologetically at Lily before heading to his parents as Caelum sulks, stopping in front of Lily. Celeste swallows as Caelum bows and she curtsies in response. His jaw tightens, his nose wrinkling in disgust as he moves closer. Lily tries to hide her surprise of the gentleness that he holds her. Thankfully not able to think about it long before the music begins.

Following Caelum is different that Draco. Isn’t as natural, as easy. _Then again Caelum has never said a kind word to me since we met_, Celeste thinks darkly, _and Draco is the closet thing I’ve had to a best friend, ignoring Harry._ _Harry, who now that we are at Hogwarts, doesn’t seem to know me at all._ She shakes the dark thought away, seeing a strange look enter Caelum’s eyes. Grey eyes that almost staring unblinkingly at her. Nearly blushing in embarrassment, she focuses on the dance. When they finish, Caelum pulls his hands away, as if touching Lily burned him. His bow rigid forced even as polite applause fills the room where the music had been. “Not bad for a half-blood,” Caelum sneers, only loud enough for Lily to hear. A compliment rolled with an insult, Lily’s eyes cast down in shame, an embarrassed and angry blush spreading over her cheeks.

“Very good,” Madam Delacourt announces, before turning to the Malfoys, “I think that should be all for today.” Lady Malfoy nods, her eyes flicking to Lily and Caelum, “I’ll be sure to have them practice.” Madam Delacourt nods, “Good,” she then smiles at her young student, “You have a gift. Please think about my offer.” Then to the whole, “Good day to each of you. I’ll see you the day before the ball to check how you are progressing, and,” her eyes return to Lily, “to get your answer, Miss Potter.” Lily swallows, nodding as Caelum and Delacourt leave the room. “Why don’t you change, Celeste?” Lady Malfoy begins, “Then we’ll do our errands.” Draco sighs, looking sadly at Lily, “See you later, Lils.” Lily chuckles, “Don’t worry, Dray, we’ll go flying after.” Her best friend nods, giving her a hug before following his cousin and Lord Malfoy. Lily smiles at Lady Malfoy before heading to her suite where Hilley is waiting.

“Young miss leaving with Mistress?” Hilley squeaks, slightly uneasy around the young witch. “Yes, I am. Any…” Lily pauses, not wanting to be cruel or thoughtless to the young elf, “I’m sorry, Hilley.” She watches the young house-elf’s eyes widen, and winces, “I’m not meaning to offend you. I’ve never met a house-elf, and I…” she swallows, “I don’t…” Hilley’s ears flick, “You’ve never met a house-elf? No one to care for you?” Her eyes widen and she claps a hand over her mouth, “Sorry, Hilley was out of line, young miss…” Lily shakes her head, “It is fine. And no I haven’t. My uncle doesn’t really allow my aunt to love me.” The house-elf’s eyes turn sad, “Well, young miss has Hilley. Yes, she does. Hilley will take good care of young miss.” Lily chuckles, “Thank you. Now, what should I wear?”

Hilley chooses one of the new dresses paired with one of the lightly heeled shoes from Aunt Petunia. The young elf watches Lily pin back the sides of her hair before putting on the owl necklace, both bracelets safely tucked in her trunk. With a quick glance at Hilley, seeing the young Elf nod, she pats her head, “Thank you, Hilley.” The young elf ducks, her large blue eyes following the young witch. “Ready?” Lady Malfoy greets, seeing Celeste walking down the stairs. She nods, “Yes, ma’am.” Her eyes turn curious, “How are we getting there?” Narcissa chuckles, “Come along and you’ll see.” Eagerly, the young witch joins her, and together they head out the door. Lily’s eyes widen as soon as they land on what's awaiting them, a black Limousine with a golden M ornament in front. Lily gasps, looking at the Lady of the manor in awe as a door opens on its own.

Lady Malfoy ushers Lily inside where she notices no one is driving, the front completely empty. “Enchanted,” Madam Malfoy answers unheeded, “We should be at Diagon Alley quickly.” Lily nods, watching the limo start its self and drives to the gate, which opens and they go through without hesitation. For the first time, Lily sees the town outside the gates, a beautiful rural town. _Or at least rural to me…_ The townspeople, the muggles, going about their lives stare in awe as they pass. “Do they see a driver?” Lily asks. “Yes, they do. Magic is a wonderful thing, is it not?” Lady Malfoy chuckles, glancing at her. Lily nods, “It is.” Both fall silent as they head out of the city.

Fear enters Lily’s eyes as the limo picks up speed, barreling down an empty dead end with a solid brick wall. Beside her, Lady Malfoy chuckles, “Breath, Celeste.” Lily looks at her with wide eyes, flicking back to the front only to close expecting the collision that never comes. Her eyes open in surprise to a different shade of light. She looks behind them, to see they’ve ‘driven’ through another brick wall. Lady Malfoy chuckles, patting her arm, “We’re in London now, Celeste.” The young Potter gapes as they join the London traffic flawlessly, heading toward Charing Cross Road.

Once they stop in front of the Leaky Cauldron, the door opens once more. When both witches step out the door closes and the limo drives off. Lily looks questioningly at Lady Malfoy, who simply chuckles turning to the pub, grabbing Lily’s hand. The pub is just as busy as Lily’s first time, but no one wants to bother Lady Malfoy. As the Lady walks, a path seems to clear. They don’t even glance at Lily, who’s incredibly grateful. She doesn’t think she could look at Lady Malfoy if they fawned over her. Noticing the difference in her young companion, Madam Malfoy pats her hand as the entrance to Diagon Alley opens, “It’s best to own it, darling. You can’t change the way they see you but…” she glances at the young witch, “That doesn’t mean it can’t be useful.” Lily looks away from the shops to look up, nodding, “I told Harry it’s something we need to get used to. We’re no longer invisible, but…” Narcissa glances at her, frowning, hearing ‘invisible,’ “But what darling?” Lily winces, “It’s different having so much attention especially since if we were paid any attention it was negative, at least with my Uncle.”

“Is he a cruel man?” Narcissa asks, her eyes like cold steel that makes anyone nearby scurry out of her way, “Your uncle?” Lily swallows, “He can be…” her eyes close, “Yes, he is.” Narcissa closes her eyes, breathing in deeply, “Tell me about your aunt?” glancing at her to see a slight smile on the young witch’s face. “She’s kind but sad. I think because she looks at me and sees my mom. It reminds her of what we’ve lost.” Madam Malfoy nods, “Your cousin?” Lily swallows once more, “Dudley and his friends bully Harry, but I’m off-limits. To anyone really, he’s oddly protective of me.” Celeste touches her necklace, “He gave me this actually.” Narcissa glances at her necklace, nodding, “It’s very beautiful.” Celeste smiles, “It is. It’s the first present he’s ever given me actually.” Lady Malfoy closes her eyes in pain, as they stop in front of one of her favorite stores, Twilfitt and Tatting’s.

“Ah, Lady Malfoy,” a well dressed beautiful witch greets, “After seeing Lord Malfoy yesterday, we weren’t expecting you. But as always it’s a pleasure.” Madam Malfoy chuckles, “Yes, it is. Ms. Burke. Do you remember the beautiful dress robes I purchased?” The witch, Ms. Burke nods, “I do. Is there… something wrong with them?” Lady Malfoy shakes her head, “No, but I just realized that I missed a few things that Miss Potter requires." Ms. Burke’s eyes widen, flicking at last to the young witch beside the Lady, “Potter as in…” Lily swallows, before straightening, “Celeste Potter.” Burke blinks, “It… really?” Narcissa chuckles, “Yes,” The rather young witch glances at Lady Malfoy then back to Lily, “It’s a pleasure to meet you…” Lily offers a small smile, “And you.”

“So anything specific you are looking for, Lady Malfoy?” Ms. Burke asks, walking them into the store itself. “Shoes and we’ll take a look at accessories,” Madam Malfoy replies. “For your ball?” Ms. Burke continues, Madam Malfoy simply nods. Celeste’s eyes flick everywhere, amazed by the assortment of wizarding styles. She wonders how it would be like shopping with her mother. Despite already having a pair of shoes, Madam Malfoy insists that Lily get another pair, a pair of sparkling silver open toe low heel slingbacks. Madam Malfoy nods in appreciation before they move to the accessories. Ms. Burke flicks her wand bringing out all the silver and green pieces. Narcissa barely glances at the pieces before saying, “That will be all. Thank you, Ms. Burke.” The young witch nods, apparently used to Madam Malfoy’s quickness, hurrying back to the front where Lady Malfoy buys the shoes.

“Come now, darling,” Madam Malfoy calls, glancing at Celeste before heading out. She chuckles watching the young witch hurry over to look at the racing brooms. Thankfully she doesn’t have to pull the witch away and they head to Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour where Lady Malfoy treats the two with caramel covered vanilla ice cream. “Did you write to your aunt?” Lady Malfoy asks once they are sitting at a table.“Yes,” Lily responds pausing, “I sent it yesterday with Altair.” The blonde hums, “Are you going to take Madam Delacourt up on her offer?” Lily doesn’t meet her eyes, timidly answering, “I don’t know. I don’t think my Unc—I don’t know how I can.” Lady Malfoy’s eyes narrow at her unfinished sentence._ I’ll write to this Aunt Petunia myself. See if she’ll tell me more than Lily is._

“Do you need anything else, dear?” Madam Malfoy asks once both are finished with their ice cream, looking down at Lily with a smile. Lily shakes her head, “No.” She chuckles, “Very well. Draco will be happy to finally be going flying with you.” Lady Malfoy notes the soft blush that colors the young Potter’s cheeks, grinning to herself as they return to the Leaky Cauldron then to the newly arriving limo where Lily’s silence breaks, “Thank you, Madam Malfoy.” The older witch smiles, “You are truly welcome, Celeste.” She watches the young witch scrunch up her nose, “Lily, please.” Narcissa chuckles, “Lily.”

“Lily!” Draco exclaims at the closed door, “hurry up!” Celeste rolls her eyes finishing braiding her hair, “I’m coming,” casting one last glance at the mirror before going to the door. Draco lifts an eyebrow, his eyes flicking to the braided hair before he grabs her hand bringing her with him through the house, all the way outside. He only let's go only to collect their brooms, Cleansweep Sevens, Excitement is in his eyes once they stop outside, “Ready to really fly, Lils?” She rolls her eyes, nodding as she mounts her broom. _Something at least that Madam Hooch has taught us._ Draco laughs as she pushes off, grinning as she hovers beside him, “You coming, Dray?” He rolls his eyes joining her in the air. They line up, glancing at each other before both hunkers closer to the broom, beginning to race.

“Seems like Miss Potter inherited her father’s gift of flying, Severus,” Lucius states, staring out the window watching the two flying around, “She looks more at ease then Draco who’s been flying since he was a toddler.” His old friend huffs joining him at the window, his eyes immediately finding the redhead blur, “At least she as the best parts of both parents, I suppose. I wonder if she’ll try for the House team next year.” Lucius chuckles, “She probably will, especially if Draco has any say. What does her brother play?” Snape’s nose wrinkles, “Seeker like their father.” The blonde nods, “Ah, I see. I wonder what position she’ll go for.” _Probably not the same as her brother, no matter how good she is as a Seeker._

“Unbelievable!” Draco exclaims watching Celeste stop inches beside him after going in full speed, “How are you good at everything?” He frowns, rolling his eyes as she laughs, “I am not.” An eyebrow lifts, “Oh you aren’t? So you aren’t top of the class in every subject? Not a good dancer? Not a good flyer?” Lily huffs, rolling her eyes too, “School takes effort. Dancing and flying come naturally. Uncle Vernon expected us to excel in school and if I hadn’t Aquila may never have come home.” Draco’s frown deepens, storing that, “Do I want to know?” Lily responds laugh is dark, shaking her head, “No,” before speeding off, forcing Draco to chase her.

“Mistress wanted Hilley to tell mistress about the young miss,” Hilley squeaks appearing beside Lady Malfoy also watching the flying friends. “I did, Hilley,” Narcissa answers. “Young miss said she doesn’t have anyone to care for her. That uncle doesn’t allow her aunt to love her.” Narcissa’s eyes squeeze shut in pain, “I see. Has Altair returned?” Hilley’s head tilts, “Yes, with a reply from young miss’s aunt.” Lady Malfoy nods, turning to her table to write a letter to this Aunt Petunia.

-~=~-~=~-~=~-

Petunia smiles seeing a familiar grey Eagle Owl peering at her through the branches of the tree in their backyard. Her eyes widening seeing not two but three letters. Celeste’s handwriting on the first two, one for Petunia the other for Dudley. She smiles at that, before looking at the third letter, the address elegantly written in green ink. The back of it sealed with green wax pressed with a detailed crest with a large M. Swallowing, Petunia opens it, seeing the writing inside is just as elegant.

=-~-=-~-=-~-=

Dear Mrs. Dursley,

I am Lady Malfoy, the mother of one of your niece's friends, Draco Malfoy. As you know Celeste is staying with us until New Years'. She is a wonderful girl and a talented dancer. We had a French dancer come for lessons for our New Years’ Eve ball. You may have heard of her, Madam Delacourt. She offered to continue teaching Lily dance if she desired. I am hoping she will take her offer.

Why I am writing is to ask… well questions that Celeste will not answer herself. About her home life, her uncle. I know she loves and cares for you deeply but, my husband and I worry for her. It’s only been a few days and I already adore her. I hope you do not find this as inappropriate and wish that we could be friends or on friendly terms as our children seem quite close.

Hope this finds you well,

Lady Vega Narcissa Malfoy

=-~-=-~-=-~-=

Sighing, she glances at the owl and holding up a finger before heading inside to respond and read her niece’s letter. Not for the last time, she wishes her nephew would write too.

-~=~-~=~-~=~-

“Thank you,” Lily states, her eyes flicking up to meet Lady Malfoy’s, as she puts Lily’s hair in a fancier style, trying to find a good hairstyle for the ball. “You are welcome, Lily. It’s nice to be able to do anothers hair,” Narcissa responds with a gentle smile. _Draco wants to look like his father…_ “You’re ready, darling,” she says aloud, “even if its just for practice. You will be the belle of the ball.” Lily shakes her head, giggling as she hugs the older witch before heading and joining the boys in the ballroom.

Caelum’s eyes flash seeing Celeste enter, smiling brightly. The smile weakens slightly when her eyes fall on him, already in the center of the ballroom. He smirks when he sees her swallow as she makes her way to him. Once she stops, Narcissa flicks her wand and music starts to play. Caelum bows properly, his eyes catching her answering curtsy. His jaw tightens as he steps closer, going into the proper hold and beginning the dance. His grey eyes stay on her as they spin across the floor. Surprise softening the normal hard steel of his eyes at her grace. The hardness returns once the music stops, and Celeste’s eyes flick to his. Unlike last time, he says no biting remarks to her surprise. Simply letting his cousin take his place. His keen eyes noticing the tension leaving her as Draco bows and she curtsies.

“Very good,” Madam Malfoy claps once the blond and redhead stops, “you three are improving nicely. A practice once a day and it’ll be perfect.” Caelum crosses his arms, before leaving, causing his aunt to sigh, “You have the rest of the day, have fun.” Draco smirks, “Race you,” breaking into a run. Celeste rolls her eyes, giving Lady Malfoy a smile before following her friend. The lady of the manor chuckles as she goes to her study. “Letter from young miss’s aunt, Mistress,” Hilley squeaks, handing the letter to Narcissa as she enters. She takes it, “Thank you, Hilley.” The elf’s ears flick, a small smile crossing her face before she disappears.

=-~-=-~-=-~-=

Dear Lady Malfoy,

Thank you, for looking out for Celeste and for adoring her. She is like my sister that way, drawing people in. I understand your worries as I am a mother myself. Celeste’s letters always speak highly about your son Draco (I think she may have a crush). I do hope we can become friends. It’ll be helpful for me to learn more about Celeste’s world. I wasn’t as openminded as I should’ve been when my sister, Lillian, went to Hogwarts. I’m trying to be better for her children.

I truly love them both, but my husband Vernon… Vernon thinks love is a weakness. So I have never been able to show them expect through small gestures that are easily overlooked. There are no pictures of their achievements, of their parents, my sister. It's like they don’t exist within our house.

Vernon expects perfection and normalness which despite Celeste’s efforts never pleases him. Both my niece and nephew do not fit in his ideal world. Especially since their Hogwarts letters came, reminding him of their ‘imperfection.’ If Madam Delacourt sent us a letter by muggle post wishing to teach her. Vernon cannot deny the ‘honor’ of having his niece be taught by a renowned dancer. 

I hope this answers some questions.

Sincerely yours,

Mrs. Petunia Dursley

=-~-=-~-=-~-=

Narcissa sighs, standing and grabbing the letter to share with her husband and his friend.

“You wrote to her?” Severus asks, surprise on his face, “And she wrote back?” Narcissa lifts an eyebrow, “Yes, Severus.” There’s a thump startling the three adults. “This uncle of the young lady sounds cruel,” responds a gruff but sophisticated voice, “But I’d like to meet this Potter girl before making any other assumptions.” Lucius’ eyes flick to his wife as he nods, “Yes, father.” He snaps his fingers, “Jaddey!” There’s silence as the elf appears, “Find Miss Potter and tell her that Lord Abraxas wishes to speak to her.” The elf nods before disappearing and Abraxas huffs, “I didn’t mean now. But I suppose you wish to talk amongst yourselves.” He grabs his cane, using it to help him stand and walk.

Lily swallows nervously, her hand constantly rubbing against her dress. Deeply grateful that Hilley made her look presentable after flying with Draco. Her eyes widen seeing a much older version of Lord Malfoy waiting in the hallway. His hair, unlike his son, is fully white now, but he still has the aristocratic features and blue eyes of the Malfoy line. When those eyes land on her, she sinks into a deep curtsy. Abraxas lifts a brow, gruffly saying, “Follow me.” Lily does, making sure to stay behind him as is polite in the older society. The old Malfoy leads them to the library where, once again, Lily is in awe. Spinning in circles trying to take in the whole library. Seeing that softens the old Lord’s demeanor seeing a reflection of his passed beloved wife in her awe.

“My grandson has spoken much about you,” Lord Abraxas begins, “Says you are trying to bring my old House out of the darkness.” Lily swallows, timidly responding, “I am. I want to prove that good wizards, or witches, can come from Slytherin. That it isn’t the house where monsters go. I want to prove that Slytherin is more. That Slytherins shouldn’t be ashamed.” Abraxas lifts an eyebrow at that, “You think monsters were in Slytherin?” Lily stops a wince, “Only one.” The old wizard hums, “The Dark Lord. Not many openly call him a monster.” Despite herself, she snorts, “It’s the only thing I can think of when a man tries to kill two one-year-olds, newly orphaned. If that isn’t a monster I don’t know what is.” He nods, “So you are the famous girl who lived. Draco said you were, but…” he sighs, “You have a passion and determination, I see why you are Slytherin. Perhaps it is time for Slytherin to change.” Lily smiles, “Thank you.” Abraxas nods, “You are welcome. I wouldn’t mind showing you around the library if you’d like.” Her smile brightens, nodding eagerly, “Yes please.” He chuckles, “It was my beloved’s pride and joy after our son.”

-~=~-~=~-~=~-

The days pass quickly and before Celeste knows it, it’s New Year's Eve. Apparently, an invitation to be taught by Madam Delacourt arrived at Number 4 Privet Drive and Uncle Vernon accepted without thought. _For bragging rights no doubt._ At practice, Madam Delacourt thought Draco should be her escort for the ball though dancing with Caelum got less tense. In fact, he hasn’t said a cruel thing to her since the first dance. _Worrying really_, Lily thinks darkly standing in front of the mirror. “Young miss shouldn’t do her hair herself,” Hilley squeaks, “that’s why young miss as Hilley.”

Lily smiles glancing at the house-elf, taking out her braid, wild from flying, “It’s a force of habit.” The young elf shakes her head, “Bad habit that young miss needs to break.” Lily chuckles, following Hilley to the bathroom where she prepares a bath for the young witch, “I’m going to miss you, Hilley, at school.” Sadness fills Hilley’s eyes, “So will Hilley, young miss.” Silence falls as the house-elf helping the witch bathe. Something that had bothered Lily when she arrived. “You and Mistress will be preparing for the ball together. Hilley will take you to Mistress,” Hilley states breaking the silence once Celeste is dressed, “Follow me.” Lily has to hurry after the elf as she leads them through the long longways of the manor.

“Thank you, Hilley,” Madam Malfoy states from her spot on the settee, “We’ll need her dress and shoes.” Hilley nods, snapping her fingers and both dress and shoes appear on the bed, “Anything else, Mistress?” Narcissa shakes her head, “Come here, darling. Let’s begin.” Hilley nods as another house-elf in green appears beside her. Lily learns the other house-elf is Jimsy, Hilley’s mother. Both elves pamper the witches, painting their nails a metallic sparkling silver. Lily watches in awe as both elf and witch cast spells putting on makeup. Hilley steps in front of her, her head tilting. “Keep her more natural, Hilley, but bring out her eyes.” The elf nods and Lily’s face tingles slightly. She gasps, seeing her eyes a bit more highlighted, her lashes a bit darker and curled. Her lips are pinker, a light red really, and glossy.

“It’s permanent too until you cast a spell to remove it,” Lady Malfoy states, internally chuckling at the awed young witch as Jimsy finishes her hair. “Wow,” Celeste mumbles, as both elves and Lady Malfoy surround her to do her hair. It’s a simple updo, her hair in an elegant twist bun but with a few strands of hair loose around the base of her neck and around her face to show her natural curls. Her youthfulness is apparent, a nice mixture of girliness and royalty. The elves help the witches dress, both in sparkling emerald green dresses with long sleeves with rings that goes around the middle finger.*

Once finished, the witches sit back down, the elves gathering stools as they weave leaves and red flowers into their hair. Willow leaves and red lilies into Celeste’s and ivy and red roses into Lady Malfoy’s. Lady Malfoy finishes by putting on a diamond necklace and waterfall diamond earrings as Hilley put the lily necklace from Harry on Celeste with a pair of diamond studs. Lily’s eyes widen seeing them, and Lady Malfoy chuckles, “They are yours, Lily.” The young Potter nods, swallowing and standing as both elves disappear. “You look beautiful, Lily,” Madam Malfoy continues, resting her hands on Lily’s shoulders. Lily smiles up at her before they both leave the room. Finding their escorts dressed in high collared forest green dress robes.

“Wow!” Draco exclaims, blushing as Lily giggles into her hand. Lord Malfoy chuckles, taking his wife’s hand and kissing it, “Wow is right, Draco. I can’t imagine any witches comparing.” Lady Malfoy chuckles, lightly shaking her head as Lord Malfoy looks pointedly at his son. Draco swallows before taking Lily’s hand and pressing a light kiss to it then placing her arm around his, mimicking his father. Satisfied, Lord Malfoy leads them toward the decorated ballroom. “Remember you wait here until your names are called,” Lucius says when they stop at the closed doors of the ballroom’s upper balcony. Draco nods stiffly as they hear. “Now the hosts of the annual New Year’s Eve Ball Lord and Lady Malfoy.” The doors open on their own, closing once the couple walks through them.

“You look very handsome,” Lily whispers. Draco smirks, “Thanks Lils, you look very…” he swallows, “pretty.” Lily smiles at him, “Thank you. Relax, Dray, it’s just me.” Internally Draco snorts, _just you wait, Lils, its terrifying dancing in front of over two dozen people._ “Now introducing the young Malfoy heir, Draco, and his guest this evening, Celeste Potter.” Both take a deep breath before stepping through the doors. Like before it shuts behind them, and Draco straightens before leading the two down the left curved staircase. Eyes follow them as pictures are taken from somewhere, as they join the rest of the guests. The disembodied voice continues, “As tradition Lord and Lady Malfoy will open the ball joined by their heir and his guest.” Draco glances at her as he leads them to the center, stopping beside his parents. In perfect sync, the Malfoy men bow and the women curtsy as the music begins.

The entire dance is synchronized perfectly by sheer coincidence. The lifts and twirls, everything flawlessly. The guests in red and green don’t know which to follow as both are seamless and mesmerizing. Applause fills the room as the last note of the song ends, along with a distinct whistle. Both Draco and Celeste stifle smiles as they finish, knowing exactly who that was. Once the two couples leave the floor, the music starts back up and some of the older guests gather on the floor to dance. The two students are quickly found by the whistler and another familiar face. “Drake, why didn’t you tell us that Red was coming,” Blaise whines hugging the redhead, who rolls her eyes. “Wanted it to be a surprise,” Draco replies with a smirk. Theo rolls his eyes hugging Lily. “Well, you aren’t going to be hoarding Lily all night,” Blaise continues, before grabbing her hand and heading to the dance floor, her laughing behind him.

Lily’s eyes sparkle watching the boys dance with Tracey (Theo), Daphane (Blaise), and Pansy (Draco). There are many familiar faces of students but none move toward her. All expect one. “Hello,” states the brunette third-year boy in red dress robes, “I don’t think they’ve met, Cedric Diggory.” Lily greets him with a smile, “Celeste Potter. Diggory…” she pauses trying to place his name, “You’re the Hufflepuff Seeker, right?” Cedric laughs, “Yes, and Cedric, please. You watched?” Lily nods, “Of course. Quidditch is amazing. Congrats on the victory.” Cedric dips his head, “Thank you it wasn't as impressive as your brother’s but…” She snorts remembering the terror, “But much more enjoyable.” Cedric chuckles, “Is your brother here?”

“No,” Lily answers, “He doesn’t like…” she trails off. “The House rivalry, right?” Cedric asks, knowingly watching her nod sadly. Annoyed with himself for upsetting her, he offers his hand, “May I have this dance?” Lily smiles at him before accepting his hand and he leads them to the dance floor. “Apologies in advance,” Cedric whispers, “I’m probably not as good as Malfoy.” Lily giggles lightly, “I’m sure you’ll be fine, Cedric.” He smiles before spinning her and beginning to dance. There’s a soft snicker across the hall, “Looks like you might have competition, Drake.” The blond hair spins in confusion, looking for Lily. Frowning when his blue-grey eyes land on her dancing happily with the seeker. He watches Diggory spin her and her responding laughter, frowning deeper, mumbling, “A Hufflepuff, of course, it’s a Hufflepuff.” Theo glances at Blaise, both silently laughing. “Relax, Drakey,” Pansy demands, clinging to Draco’s arm, “That means you can dance with me.” Theo and Blaise laugh at their friend’s helpless face as he’s pulled on to the dance floor. “Make sure I get a picture of that one,” Blaise whispers to Theo who huffs a laugh.

“Draco, what are you doing?” Lily huffs, being pulled toward their friends by an irate blond, “Draco!?” Blaise chuckles once both stop, “He’s jealous.” Draco glares at him, “I was not,” crossing his arms and glancing at Lily, “It’s nearly midnight.” Lily matches him, “So? I was talking to Cedric, and you pulled me away. Rudely at that!” Theo and Blaise snigger earning another glare from the blond. “And what were you talking about with a third-year?” Draco asks. “He was telling me about the elective classes you chose for 3rd year,” Lily responds, before sighing, “I’m sorry. He started talking to me when you three were dancing.” Theo gives Draco a pointed look, “It's all good.” The disembodied voice is back, “Ladies and Gentlemen it is nearly midnight.” Draco looks around before pulling his friends to the balcony before the guests even move. “Why?” Lily asks, confused. “The Malfoys always have a fireworks show. It’s breathtaking every year,” Theo answers, “It’s the main reason why most of the guests come.” Draco snorts, “And to say they were invited by the Malfoys. It’s a prestigious thing.”

Lily hums wrapping her arms around Theo and Blaise’s arms as the count down firework bursts. Draco rolls his eyes, as the first firework bursts in the sky at 30 seconds. With each second another firework is added, so at 1 second till thirty fireworks burst into the air. At zero a massive 1992 appears as “HAPPY NEW YEAR!” roars through the crowd. The finale’s fireworks never touch the red and green 1992. Theo was right, it is breathtaking. Somehow the fireworks mark the important happenings of the year before. A remembrance as such. Lastly, there’s a firework for each 1st year. The crowd cheers for their own House. Applause follows as the sky calms and the floating 1992 disappears from the sky. Blaise and Theo part rejoining their families, leaving Lily and Draco alone. Lily moves to rest on the balcony railing and Draco follows, leaning against it. “I’m sorry, Lils. I just…” Draco begins only to be cut off by a soft kiss on his cheek. He gawks at her, and she smiles before looking away, “I’m sorry too.” He chuckles, kissing her cheek in return, “Then we are even. Happy New Year, Lily.” He chuckles as her laughter fills the air, “Happy New Year, Draco.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Something happy and sweet for you! Next, we'll be back at Hogwarts.  
Happy St. Patrick's Day!  
-~=~-~=~-~=~-~=~-~=~-~=~-  
Thanks for reading! I hope ya'll enjoy it and sorry for any mistakes. Positive feedback is greatly appreciated!


	14. Nicolas Flamel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Italic are thoughts*  
*Underlined and italicized words are books*  
~ Happy Reading! ~

Chapter 14 | Nicolas Flamel

-~=~-~=~-~=~-

“Harry!” comes a squeal before the raven-haired boy is wrapped in a hug. He chuckles returning it, “Hey, Cel. Good week?” His sister pulls away nodding, “It was amazing, Harry.” Ron snorts, “Yeah, staying in a den of snakes must be loads of fun.” Celeste huffs, “Hi Ron. How was your week?” The young Weasley frowns as Harry launches into his story. Cel’s eyes widen, “You went back. Harry! That mirror…” Harry sighs, “I know, dangerous. Professor Dumbledore told me. I haven’t been back since.” Her arms cross, before her eyes soften, “Are you alright?” Harry winces, “Been having nightmares is all.” Cel frowns, “Are they about our parents disappearing in green light and a high cacking laugh?”

“Yes,” Harry replies, surprised before his eyes widen, “Have you been having them too?” Celeste nods, “I have. I didn’t know why, but now it makes sense.” Ron frowns, “Why?” Cel glancing at her brother, “Because sometimes we have the same dreams.” Ron’s eyes widen, “Really? I wonder if that’s a twin thing?” The Potter twins shrug as Ron looks around the Great Hall, “Is the Slytherins with you?” Cel rolls her eyes, “Draco and Cae… and Lestrange are returning with the others.” The boys nod, sighing disappointedly, both eager for some sort of entertainment.

-~=~-~=~-~=~-

“Cel!” her best friend exclaims as she enters the common room, “Your gift was wonderful. I can’t wait for the term to start to try it.” Celeste smiles hugging the Gryffindor bookworm, “I thought it would come in handy.” Hermione giggles before greeting Harry and Ron as Celeste leaves not wanting to be there when everyone returns. There’s a squeal of happiness before she tightly hugged by Sophie as she enters her common room and they fall into conversation about their holidays as the boys join them. Aquila leads Cel to her dorm where her trunk has been returned to the foot of her bed like it never left.

When term starts, the golden trio returns to the library during their breaks still searching for Nicholas Flamel. No matter Celeste’s excuses they would pull her along. Typically, she’s just there with Hermione and Ron as Quidditch practice continues. In the evening, all of Harry’s teammates mutter that Wood is trying to kill them. Well, minus Harry, who agrees with the captain. _Anything to beat Slytherin_, Cel thinks darkly, _even though we won our last match._ Celeste even found herself at the library without the golden trio. Her desire to just let her brother figure out the mystery growing by the day.

“Well, look what we have here,” comes a sneer Celeste is quite familiar with. Dread spreads down her spine, _don’t be me and don’t be a…_ “A lonely Gryffindor. Doesn’t a pack of lions protect its weakest member?” the sneer continues, “where’s your pack?” There are sniggers, Crabbe and Goyle. “It’s fortunate that I’m here I’ve been looking for a test dummy. _Locomotor Mortis_.” Cel growls, packing her things and leaving the library, her wand in her hand. She barely catches a hopping Neville, her focus on the trio of laughing Slytherins.

“_Locomotor Mortis_,” Celeste whispers, smirking as the three collapses in a leap, “It’s a pride of lions, Lestrange, even muggles know that. Perhaps now you’ll learn the counter-curse.” She turns with a dismissal flick of her hair hurried following the hopping Neville. She reaches him at the Gryffindor common room, already freed. “Neville!” Cel sighs, “Are you alright?” Harry looks at her in surprise as Hermione asks as they move toward the couch, “What happened?” Neville winces, “Lestrange.” Cel sighs, “I followed him all the way from the library.”

“Go to Professor McGonagall,” Hermione urges, “Report him.” Neville shakes his head, mumbling, “I don’t want more trouble.” Ron sighs, “You’ve got to stand up to him, Neville! He’s used to walking all over people, but that’s no reason to lie down in front of him and make it easier.” Neville winces, “there’s no need to tell me I’m not brave enough to be in Gryffindor, Lestrange’s already done that.” Cel glowers at Ron as Harry searches his pockets, handing the near tears Neville a chocolate frog. “You’re worth twelve of Lestrange. The Sorting Hat chose you for Gryffindor, didn’t it? And where’s Lestrange? In stinking Slytherin.” Neville’s lips twitch to a weak smile as he unwraps the frog, “Thanks, Harry… I think I’ll go to bed… D’you want the card, you collect them, don’t you?” then walks away.

“There’s nothing wrong with Slytherin,” Celeste huffs, crossing her arms, causing Harry to wince. “Sorry Cel,” Harry says, looking apologetically at his sister before glancing at the Famous Wizard card, “Dumbledore again. He was the first one I ever—” he gasps, staring the back then up at the others. “I’ve found him,” he whispers, “I’ve found Flamel! I _told_ you I’d read the name somewhere before, I read it on the train coming here.”

“Listen to this:” Harry continues, “‘Dumbledore is particularly famous for his defeat of the dark wizard Grindelwald in 1945, for the discovery of the twelve uses of dragon’s blood, and his work on alchemy with his partner, Nicolas Flamel’!” Hermione gasps, jumping to her feet, exclaim “Stay here!” before rushing to her dormitory. Harry and Ron barely have time to share mystified looks before the bookworm is back with an enormous old book. "I never thought to look in here!" she whispers excitedly, "I got this out of the library weeks ago for a bit of light reading."

“Light?” Ron repeats but Hermione hushes him and Cel moves beside her to help her look. _I’m going to regret this,_ Cel thinks darkly as they find it. “I knew it! I knew it!” Hermione exclaims. Harry and Ron share a glance as the redhead mutters, “Are we allowed to speak yet?” Cel glares at him as her friend ignores him, reading aloud in a dramatic whisper, “Nicholas Flamel is the only known maker of the Sorcerer’s Stone!” Both boys frown, “The what?”

“Oh, honestly, don’t you two read? Look— read that,” Cel states, pushing the book toward them and pointing at the passage. They read:

** _The ancient study of alchemy is concerned with making the Sorcerer’s Stone, a legendary substance with astonishing powers. The stone will transform any metal into pure gold. It also produces the Elixer of Life, which will make the drinker immortal._ **

** _There have been many reports of the Sorcerer’s Stone over the centuries, but the only Stone currently in existence belongs to Mr. Nicholas Flamel, the noted alchemist, and opera lover. Mr. Flamel, who celebrated his six hundred and sixty-fifth birthday last year, enjoys a quiet life in Devon with his wife, Perenelle (six hundred and fifty-eight)._ **

“See?” Hermione whispers when they finished, “The dog must be guarding Flamel’s Sorcerer’s Stone! I bet he asked Dumbledore to keep it safe for him, because they’re friends and he knew someone was after it, that’s why he wanted the Stone moved out of Gringotts!”

“A stone that makes gold and stops you from ever dying?” Harry whispers, “No wonder Snape’s after it! Anyone would want it.” Cel huffs, crossing her arms as Ron nods, “And no wonder we couldn’t find Flamel in that_ Study of Recent Developments in Wizardry. _He’s not exactly recent if he’s six hundred and sixty-five, is he?” Cel rolls her eyes, “Well, I hope you’ll leave it alone now.” Harry snorts, “Snape wants it, Cel!” His sister lifts an eyebrow, “No, he doesn’t, Harry. You do not know that!” Ron snorts and Hermione bites her lip as Harry exclaims, “He tried to kill me last Quidditch and he’s going to be refereeing our next!” Cel snorts, collecting her things, “You are just impossible,” leaving in a huff.

-~=~-~=~-~=~-

Severus tilts his head, his eyes flicking over the students in red and green. They land on Neville who has yet to ruin his potion. _A first_, the Potions master thinks, his eyes landing on a small ball attached to the side of his cauldron. The longer he looks he notices that it flickers red and lets out a low whistle with any mistake. Then it changes back to green when corrected. Curious, Snape moves closer but not enough to stress or let Neville know he’s watching.

When class is finished, Snape is surprised at the quality of the potion, by far one of the good ones. _Perhaps he isn’t a complete dunderhead._ His inquisitive eyes flick to him as he hears him being congratulated on his earned house points. Eyes narrowing, he clears his throat, “Miss Potter and Mr. Longbottom, I would like to speak with you.”

Neville’s eyes widen looking Celeste who responds, “Of course, Professor.” Her brother and his friends hover before being shooed by the Slytherin. _No doubt thinking I’ll try to ‘kill’ her… or him._ “I am quite pleased with your progress, Mr. Longbottom,” Snape begins once the room is clear. Smirking internally at the surprise on the young boy’s face, “Perhaps you aren’t a lost cause with Potions after all. You may go.” Neville nods, swallowing before smiling slightly at Celeste and leaving.

“Why do I believe that you are the reason he’s doing better, Miss Potter?” Snape states once the door is closed after the Gryffindor. “I have nothing to do with it, Professor,” Celeste answers sweetly. Her professor's eyes narrow, “You are lying. You made that device that he puts in his cauldron, didn’t you?” Celeste sighs, nodding, “Yes, Professor.” Severus crosses his arms, “Why?” His student looks away mumbling something. “What was that?” She sighs in irritation, “Harry and the others think you bully him.” Snape frowns, “Because he makes mistakes?” Celeste nods, “Yes. I wanted to prove if he did better you’d be nicer. But I also wanted him to learn too.” He hums, “Can you make more?”

“Professor?” Celeste asks him in surprise. “I think,” Snape drawls, “the Headmaster would see them as necessary for beginner potioneers.” Her eyes widen, “Really?” He nods and she squeals surprising him with a hug, “Thank you, Professor.” Snape chuckles, “As a matter of fact, I think you need your own study place. Down the hall, there’s an unused private potions room, I think it will do.” Lily’s eyes light up, as he continues, “And you better get working on a patent.” She nods eagerly before skipping to the door, where she gives him a smile and one last, “Thank you, Professor,” then leaving. Snape shakes his head, making his way to the Headmaster’s office, a slight smile on his face.

“What did he want?” Harry asks, his eyes flicking to the closing door. “Nothing,” Celeste chirps happily. The boys narrow their eyes as Cel rolls hers, “Harry, everything is fine.” Harry snorts, glaring at the door, not trusting the niceness of the professor. _It’s almost like he knows that we know about the stone and are trying to stop him_, Harry thinks darkly. _It isn’t like he really could—but if he can read minds…_ Harry shutters following his sister.

-~=~-~=~-~=~-

“Hey,” comes a familiar voice as Celeste is about to enter the Great Hall. Celeste turns, smiling when her eyes land on, “Cedric! Worried about the game today?” The brunette chuckles, “Slightly but I was wondering if,” he swallows nervously. “I’ll be cheering for you too even if you’re playing against my brother,” Celeste replies, causing the third year to chuckle again, “Good. I…” he breathes in before unwrapping his house scarf from around his neck then steps closer wrapping it around hers, “To show your support for Hufflepuff.” Cel blushes, “Thank you…” Cedric nods before heading out.

“Hufflepuff!? Really?” Ron exclaims, “Who even let you borrow their scarf?!” Celeste rolls her eyes, as the twins wrap their arms around her. “Her boyfriend did,” George begins. Fred nodding, continuing, “the pretty boy.” Cel huffs, punching them on the shoulders, “He is not my boyfriend, George!” Harry frowns, wondering who this boy is as Ron asks the more important question, “You are still sitting with us right?” The Slytherin crosses her arms, “I was planning on it…”

“Walk with me, Cel?” Harry asks once they’ve eaten. His sister nods, joining Ron and Hermione in the walk to the Quidditch pitch. Both friends somber as they wish Harry good luck making Cel frown. She gives her brother a reassuring smile, “You’ll do amazing, Harry, I know it.” Harry nods as Ron snorts. “Why are you acting as if he’ll die?” Celeste demands once her brother is safely in the locker room. “Snape’s refereeing,” Ron retorts. “You two are unbelievable!” Cel huffs, as they join Neville in the stands. Neville eyes his housemates curiously, seeing their wands and how annoyed Celeste is.

“See Professor Dumbledore’s here!” Cel points out, motioning to the headmaster, “Harry’s safe.” _As if Professor Snape would hurt Harry…_ but like the others, she remembers Harry’s first, and so far only, game. Both Gryffindor’s sigh, Ron mumbling, “We’ve been practicing the leg-locker curse for nothing.” Cel snorts despite herself, _like that, will help when he’s in the air and flying._ Hermione hushes him. “Look,” Ron points, “they’re off. Ouch!” Cel glances at him, seeing what happened. “Oh,” a familiar drawl begins smugly, “sorry Weasley, didn’t see you there.”

“I see you learned the counter curse, Lestrange,” Celeste retorts, not giving her fellow Slytherins even a glance. “You are lucky you are my House, Potter,” Lestrange mutters, “or I’d have…” His housemate scoffs, “Told on me… then I’d simply say I was standing up for a fellow student. Who’d be in more trouble then…” Lestrange growls, his ‘friends’ silent as the three Gryffindor’s look at her in surprise. The raven-haired Slytherin is silent for all but a minute before smirking, “Wonder how long Potter’s going to stay on his broom this time? Anyone want a bet? What about you, Weasley?”

“Ignore him,” Celeste whispers tightly. Ron nods and they ignore him watching Snape award Hufflepuff a penalty because George hit a Bludger at him. That caused Cel’s hands to tighten, surveying the whole game. Hermione’s attention is solely on Harry, who’s circling like a hawk looking for the Snitch. “You know how I think they choose people for the Gryffindor team?” Lestrange begins, smirking as Hufflepuff gets another penalty, “It’s people they feel sorry for.”

“See, there’s Potter,” Lestrange continues, “who’s got no parents, then there’s the Weasleys, who’ve got no money—you should be on the team, Longbottom, you’ve got no brains,” Celeste tells herself to breathe and to stay calm, even as her hands tighten into fists. _Don’t react, he’s gloating you… reacting is what he wants. _Neville turns bright red and turns to him, “I’m worth twelve of you, Lestrange.” Crabbe and Goyle join their ‘friend’ in howling laughter. “You tell him, Neville,” Ron states, proud of his housemate though his eyes never leave the game. “Longbottom,” Lestrange continues, “if brains were gold you’d be poorer than Weasley, and that’s saying something.” Ron reacts with that, “I’m warning you, Lestrange—one more word—”

“Harry—!” Hermione exclaims. “What? Where?” Ron replies as Cel points him out. A blur in a spectacular dive, drawing gasps and cheers from the crowd. “You’re in luck, Weasley, Potter’s obviously spotted some money on the ground!” sneers Lestrange. Ron snaps, and before Lestrange can react the redhead is on top of him wrestling him to the ground. Neville hesitates before joining. The two girls blind to the commotion behind them. “Come on, Harry!” Hermione screams, leaping onto her seat along with Celeste as they watch Harry sped straight at Snape.

Up in the air, Snape turns on his broom just in time to see something scarlet shooting past him, missing him by inches—the next second, Harry pulls out of the dive, raising his arm in triumph, holding the Snitch in his hand. The stands erupt, clapping for the fastest game. “Ron! Ron! Where are you? The game’s over! Harry’s won! We’ve won! Gryffindor is in the lead!” Hermione shrieks, dancing up and down on her seat and hugging both Celeste and Parvati Patil in the row in front.

Harry jumps off his broom, a foot from the ground, grinning ear to ear, _I did it, I really did it!_ As Gryffindors spill onto the field, Harry sees Snape land nearby, shaking his head. Then he feels a hand on his shoulder, looking up into Dumbledore's smiling face. “Well done,” the Headmaster says, only loud enough for Harry to hear, “Nice to see you haven’t been brooding about that mirror… been keeping busy… excellent…”

Celeste despite herself grins cheering as loud as the others before her eyes land on the Hufflepuffs and frowns. She leaves the Gryffindors silently, “Sorry, you lost.” Cedric’s lips quirt, “It’s okay. Five minutes…” shaking his head, “I hadn’t even seen the snitch. Congratulate your brother on the new record.” He winces, “Sorry for your House losing its lead.” Cel sighs, “Thank you. You’ll be the only non-Slytherin to say that.” Cedric frowns, “Your brother?” Her smile is sad, “House rivalry remember,” before returning his scarf and leaving.

The Gryffindors rope Celeste into their celebrations to her joy and disappointment. Everyone cheering that they are going to beat the snakes forgetting about the Slytherin in their midst. Celeste’s smiles are slightly pained as she joins the cheers and the party after forward. Well, until she notices her missing brother. Tapping Ron and Hermione, the trio goes in search of him.

“Harry, where have you been?” Hermione asks once they find him “We won! You won! We won!” Ron shouts, thumping Harry on the back, “And I gave Lestrange a black eye, and Neville tried to take on Crabbe and Goyle single-handed! He’s still out cold but Madam Pomfrey says he’ll be alright—talk about showing Slytherin! Everyone’s waiting for you in the common room, we’re having a party, Fred and George stole some cakes and stuff from the kitchens.”

“Never mind that now,” Harry replies breathlessly, “Let’s find an empty room, you wait ‘til you hear this…” Making sure Peeves isn’t inside before shutting the door behind them telling them what he saw and heard in the forest, “So we were right it is the Sorcerer’s Stone, and Snape’s trying to force Quirrel to help him get it.” Cel rolls her eyes, but stays silent, long given up on correcting them, as her brother continues, “He asked if he knew how to get past Fluffy—and he said something about Quirrell’s ‘hocus-pocus’—I reckon there are other things guarding the stone apart from Fluffy, loads of enchantments, probably, and Quirrell would have done some anti-Dark Arts spell that Snape needs to breakthrough—" Hermione’s eyes widen, “So you mean the Stone’s only safe as long as Quirrell stands up to Snape?” Ron swallows, “It’ll be gone by next Tuesday!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope everyone is staying safe during this crazy time.  
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Thanks for reading! I hope ya'll enjoy it and sorry for any mistakes. Positive feedback is greatly appreciated!


	15. Norbert the Norwegian Ridgeback

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Italic are thoughts*  
*Underlined and italicized words are books*  
~ Happy Reading! ~

Chapter 15 | Norbert the Norwegian Ridgeback

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Quirrell, however, is braver than the Gryffindors thought. In the weeks that follow, he doesn’t crack but he does get paler and thinner. The trio passes by the third-floor corridor when they can, listening for Fluffy’s growling. Their eyes follow Snape accusatorily whenever they see him. When Harry sees the Defense professor he smiles encouragingly while Ron starts yelling at people for laughing at his stutter.

The girls, however, as they put it, have more important things to worry about, exams. Hermione, to the amusement, and later horror, of the boys, makes study schedules and starts color-coding her notes. “Hermione, exams are ages away,” Ron exclaims when she nags them to do the same. “Ten weeks,” Hermione snaps, “That’s not ages, that’s like a second to Nicholas Flamel.” The boys roll their eyes. “But we’re not six hundred years old,” Ron huffs, smirking at a chuckling Harry, “Anyway, what are you studying for, you already know it all.”

“What am I studying for?” Hermione shrieks, “Are you crazy? You realize we need to pass the exams to get into the second year? Honestly, I should have started studying months ago, I don’t know what’s gotten into me…” Celeste frowns at her as she joins, glancing at the boys who are once again rolling their eyes, “What’s wrong?” Harry sighs, seeing his sister’s stack of books, “Hermione is panicking about exams. By the looks of it so are you…” Cel chuckles, “I am but this is all homework.” The boy’s eyes widen, then wince. “That will take us all Easter break!”

It did and the professors keep piling on more. Soon they are in the library every day with the bookworm trying to complete the piles of homework. “I’ll never remember this,” Ron mumbles his mantra as of late, throwing his quill down and staring listlessly out the window. The sky a clear blue, the nicest day yet. “Summer’s just around the corner,” Ron continues longingly. “And you won’t remember if you don’t study,” Cel adds, joining them and waving at the group she just left.

Harry huffs, his eyes still on his book _One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi_, studying ‘Dittany’. His eyes stay on the page until he hears Ron, “Hagrid! What are you doing in the library?” The other looks up to see a very out of place Hagrid shuffles into view, hiding something behind him. “Jus’ lookin’,” he replies, his shifty voice grabbing their attention, “An’ what’re you lot up ter?” Suspicion enters his face, “Yer not still looki’ fer Nicholas Flamel, are yeh?”

“Oh, we found out who he is ages ago,” Ron replies impressively, “And we know what that dog’s guarding, it’s a Sorc…” Cel claps her hand over his mouth. “Shhhh!” Hagrid interrupts, looking around, “Don’ go shoutin’ about it, what’s the matter with yeh?” Ron winces, stopping his glare at the Slytherin. “There are a few things we wanted to ask you, as a matter of fact,” Harry cuts in, “about what’s guarding the Stone apart from Fluffly---” Cel closes her eyes and shakes her head as Hagrid hushes her brother, “SHHHH! Listen—come an’ see me later. I’m not promisin’ I’ll tell yeh anythin’, mind, but don’ go rabbitin’ about it in here, students aren’ s’pposed ter know. They’ll think I’ve told yeh—”

“See you later then,” Harry cuts in. _Rudely, _Cel thinks, watching Hagrid shuffle off. “What was he hiding behind his back?” Hermione asks thoughtfully. “Do you think it had anything to do with the Stone?” Harry asks excitedly. “I’ going to see what section he was in,” Ron replies, tired of studying. “Dragons!” Ron whispered, slamming a pile of books onto the table a minute later, “Hagrid was looking up stuff about Dragons! Look at these: _Dragon Species of Great Britain and Ireland_, _From Egg to Inferno, a Dragon Keeper’s Guide_,” Harry and Cel share a look. “Hagrid’s always wanted a dragon,” Harry replies and Celeste continues, “He told us so the first time we met him.”

“But it’s against our Laws,” Ron stresses, “Dragon breeding was outlawed by the Warlocks’ Convention of 1709, everyone knows that. It’s hard to stop Muggles from noticing us if we’re keeping dragons in the back garden—anyway, you can’t tame dragons, it’s dangerous. You should see the burns Charlie’s got off wild ones in Romania.”

“But there aren’t wild dragons in Britain?” Harry asks. “Of course there are,” Ron replies, “Common Welsh Green and Hebridean Black. The Ministry of Magic has a job hushing them up, I can tell you. Our kind has to keep putting spells on Muggles who’ve spotted them, to make them forget.” Hermione’s eyes widen, flicking to where the giant man disappeared, “So what on earth’s Hagrid up to?” An hour later, the quartet knocks on Hagrid’s door, surprised to see that all the curtains are closed. “Who is it?” Hagrid calls. “It’s us, Hagrid,” Harry replies, the group looking at each other suspiciously. There’s a grunt before the door opens, then immediately he shuts it after them. They fan themselves once inside, staring at the blazing fire in the grate as Hagrid makes them tea, and offers stoat sandwiches, which they refuse. “So,” Hagrid asks, sitting down, “yeh want to ask me somethin’?”

“Yes,” Harry begins, seeing no point in beating around the bush, “We were wondering if you could tell us what’s guarding the Sorcerer’s Stone apart from Fluffy.” Cel rolls her eyes as Hargid frowns at her frown, “O’ course I can’t. Number one, I don’ know meself. Number two, yeh know too much already, so I wouldn’ tell yeh if I could. That stone’s here fer a reason. It was almost stolen outta Gringotts—I s’ppose yeh’ve worked that out an’ all? Beats me how yeh even know abou’ Fluffy.”

“Oh, come on, Hagrid, you might not want to tell us, but you _do_ know, you know everything that goes on round here,” Hermione replies sweetly. Cel frowns at her as Hagrid’s beard twitched, smiling. “We only wondered who had done the guarding really,” Hermione continues, “We wondered who Dumbledore had trusted enough to help him, apart from you.” With that Hagrid’s chest swells, and Harry and Ron beams at Hermione. “Well, I don’ s’pose it could hurt ter tell yeh that… let’s see… he borrowed Fluffy from me… then some o’ the teachers did enchantments… Professor Sprout—Professor Flitwick—Professor McGonagall—” he ticked them off on his fingers, “Professor Quirrell—an’ Dumbledore himself did somethin’, o’ course. Hang on, I’ve forgotten someone. Oh yeah, Professor Snape.”

“Snape?” Harry repeats in horror. “Yeah—yer not still on abou’ that are yeh? look, Snape helped protect the Stone, he’s not about ter steal it.” One glance at Ron and Hermione, Harry knew they were thinking the same thing he is. _He must’ve figured out the other protectors. He probably knows everything except Quirrel’s part and Fluffy._ “You’re the only one who knows how to get past Fluffy, aren’t you, Hagrid?” Harry asks nervously, “And you wouldn’t tell anyone, would you? Not even one of the teachers?”

“Not a soul knows except me an’ Dumbledore,” Hagrid replies proudly. “Well, that’s something,” Harry mutters to the others who nod in agreement. Then louder he says, “Hagrid, can we have a window open? I’m boiling.” Hagrid winces, “Can’t, Harry, sorry.” The twins notice his glance at the fire. Both follow, and Cel gasps as Harry asks, “Hagrid—what’s that?” Both already knew of course. In the very heart of the fire, underneath the kettle is a huge, black egg. “Ah,” Hagrid begins, fiddling nervously with his beard, “That’s—er…”

“Where did you get it, Hagrid?” Ron asks, couching near the fire to get a better look, “It must’ve cost you a fortune.” Hagrid swallows, “Won it las’ night. I was down in the village havin’ a few drinks an’ got into a game o’ card with a stranger. Think he was quite glad ter get rid of it, ter be honest.”

“But what are you going to do with it when it’s hatched?” asks Hermione. “Well, I’ve bin doin’ some readin’,” Hagrid replies, pulling out a large book from under his pillow, “Got this outta the library—_Dragon Breeding for Pleasure and Profit_—it’s a bit outta date, o’ course, but it’s all in here. Keep the egg in the fire, ‘cause their mothers breathe on ‘em, see, an’ when it hatches, feed it on a bucket o’ brandy mixed with chicken blood every half hour.”

“An’ see here,” Hagrid continues, pointing at a page in the book, “how ter recognize diff’rent eggs—what I got there’s a Norwegian Ridgeback. They’re rare, them,” finishing looking quite pleased with himself. But Hermione and Cel don’t, saying as one, “Hagrid, you live in a wooden house!” Hagrid, of course, ignores this, humming merrily as he strokes the fire. The four students share a worried glance, now they have something else to worry about: what might happen to Hagrid if anyone found out he was hiding an illegal dragon in his hut.

-~=~-~=~-~=~-

“Wonder what it’s like to have a nice peaceful life,” Ron sighs at lunch, dreading the homework that awaits them. Harry snickers as Cel rolls her eyes, “It’s not that bad, Ron.” The other redhead snorts, “Says you two, the brightest witches of our year. You could do this in your sleep!” Hermione shares at look with Celeste as a snowy owl lands in front of them with a note.

=-~-=-~-=-~-=

It’s time.

=-~-=-~-=-~-=

“Let’s skip Herbology,” Ron whispers excitedly. “No, Ron, we have class,” Hermione states crossing her arms, “Hermione, how many times in our lives are we going to see a dragon hatching?” Ron complains. “Exams are nearing, Ron,” Hermione argues. “And we’ll get in trouble if we break any more rules,” Cel adds, pointedly looking at her brother. Harry cuts in, whispering, “Be quiet,” pointing his head toward Lestrange, who stopped dead to listen. Cel swallows sharing a glance with her brother, silently communicating, _How much do you think he heard?_ Neither has an answer but both don’t like the smugness on his face.

“I’ll keep an eye on him,” Cel whispers, before joining her friends. “What’s wrong, Lily?” Sophie asks as she does. She closes her eyes, “I wish I could tell you.” Draco frowns, “Something to do with your brother?” Lily nods, “Yeah,” she glances at Lestrange, the blond’s eyes following, “and trouble.” Blaise puts an arm around her shoulder, “You know you can trust us, right?” Lily sighs, “I know, and I do but this is a secret I can’t tell.” Theo glances at her seeing the sadness in them, “Well, we’re here for you.” The redhead smiles, “Thank you.”

It’s been difficult for Celeste not telling her friends about the mystery her brother is obsessed with. But she made a promise to the Headmaster. albeit one she’s failing at, but still, she is trying. She hopes that eventually she can tell them and hopes they won’t be mad at her. Shaking that away she focuses on Charms. Once Charms is over, she hurriedly says goodbye to her friends before rushing to Hagrid’s Hut, meeting up with the Gryffindor trio on the way. Hagrid greets them, looking flushed and excited, “It’s nearly hatched,” he says ushering them inside. The egg’s been moved from the fire to Hagrid’s table. It’s covered with deep cracks, and something is moving inside with a funny clicking noise. Everyone gathers chairs around the table, watching with bated breath.

It’s a longer wait then they thought, the sky darkening into dusk when an interesting sound comes from the egg, Then all at once, there’s a scraping noise and the egg splits in two revealing a baby dragon. It flops onto the table, ungracefully. Harry’s nose wrinkles, wanting to say it isn’t exactly pretty. As it looks more like a crumbled, black umbrella. Its spiny wings are huge compared to its skinny jet-black body with a long snout and wide nostrils, the stubs of horns and bulging orange eyes. It sneezes, releasing a couple of sparks from its snout.

“Isn’t he beautiful?” Hagrid murmurs, reaching out to stroke the dragon’s head. It snaps at his fingers, showing pointed fangs, “Oh, bless him, look, he knows his mommy! Hello, little Norbert.” Celeste looks on in awe as Hermione asks, “Hagrid, how fast do Norwegian Ridgebacks grow, exactly?” Hagrid looks up to answer before the color drains from his face. He leaps from his chair and runs to the window. “What’s the matter?” Hermione asks and Cel’s eyes close. “Someone was lookin’ through the gap in the curtains—it’s a kid—he’s running up ter the school.”

_Lestrange!_ The Potters both think, sharing a glance. “Blimey, is that the time?” Hagrid exclaims, “You better go it’s nearly curfew.” The four scrambles to the castle, not wanting to be caught, but as they turn the corner, they freeze. Awaiting them is Caelum Lestrange with a cut lip, Draco Malfoy, and Neville Longbottom with two furious Professors, McGonagall and Snape. “And just what are the four of you up too?” Snape states, disappointment in his voice. “I will deal with it, Severus,” states McGonagall. “Of course,” Snape says, bowing his head, “I think the same punishment would suffice.” Cel swallows, sharing a fearful look with the others. “If the seven of you would follow me, please,” McGonagall states icily.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for the kudos and the comments. I'm so thankful that you are enjoying it, makes this worthwhile for me. I hope everyone is staying story throughout this crazy time. My love and thoughts are with you. ❤  
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Thanks for reading! I hope ya'll enjoy it and sorry for any mistakes. Positive feedback is greatly appreciated!


	16. The Forbidden Forest

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Italic are thoughts*  
*Underlined and italicized words are books*  
~ Happy Reading! ~

Chapter 16 | The Forbidden Forest

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“Detention!?” Ron exclaims. “Yes, Mr. Weasley, that is what I said,” McGonagall retorts, “the seven of you will be serving detention.” A throat clears, “Did you say the seven of us?” A smirk graces the Transfiguration Professor’s lips, “Yes, Mr. Lestrange. I did, you and your cousin will be joining your year mates in Detention. And also, I am docking fifty points.” Celeste’s eyes close as Ron exclaims, “Fifty?!”

“From each of you,” McGonagall states. Harry squeezes his eyes shut; _all those points I won for the match… everyone is going to hate me. _He smiles slightly, _but at least Slytherin loses a hundred and fifty_ _points,_ then winces. _Sorry Cel._ “I will send you an owl when you are to have your detention,” McGonagall continues, “Off to your Houses.” Harry and Hermione hug the redhead Slytherin goodbye before the Gryffindors leave.

“Hundred and fifty points!” Draco sighs, shaking his head. He glares at his cousin, “All because you had to get Potter in trouble.” Caelum snorts, “Be mad at your friend, it was her and hers that stayed out late,” he smirks, “with a dragon no less.” Celeste winces at the slight glare the blond gives her. “Look I’m sorry,” Lily states, “what did you want me to do?”

“Oh, I don’t know, not get into trouble?” Draco retorts snarkily. “Like I try to?” Lily snaps back, “And what were you doing out?” The blond’s eyes narrow, “Looking for you, Lily. You left without a word. We were getting worried. Then I saw Caelum leave and followed him.” Lily sighs, “I’m sorry, Draco.” He snorts, “Sure, tell that to our house.” She winces, “At least we’re still in the lead.”

“LILY!” Sophie exclaims as they enter, “Are you okay?” Lily sniffs, mumbling, “I lost us a hundred and fifty points.” But they can only hear the last bit, points. Someone exclaims, “You lost us how much?!” A Slytherin prefect, Calhoon. “She lost us hundred and fifty,” Lestrange answers smugly, smirking at Celeste. “Why do I think she wouldn’t of if not for you?” Daphne retorts. “It wasn’t just her,” Draco adds, glaring at his cousin, “McGonagall took fifty away from each of us. But,” he smirks, “Gryffindor lost two hundred. So…”

“It’ll make the other Houses think they can win we’re only a hundred ahead now,” Avery says, smirking, “It’ll crush them when we still win.” The common room nods. “And they probably think we’ll turn against our little first years,” Calhoon adds, chuckling, “Our genius little first year,” pointedly looking at Flint who swallows. “We’ll stand by you, Princess, don’t you worry.”

-~=~-~=~-~=~-

“A dragon!?” Theo softly exclaims at breakfast the next day, “You saw an actual dragon hatch!” Lily nods, “I did.” Blaise lifts an eyebrow, “And you didn’t tell us? Why?” Lily sighs, “I didn’t want you to get into trouble and…” Draco cuts in, “Potter knew.” The quintet looks up as they hear hissing filling the Hall. “Well, that answers that,” Draco says, smirking, watching gleefully as Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Neville wince and sit at the table, those near them move away. “So much for the mighty Gryffindor loyalty,” Blaise snorts, “Popular one day and outcast the next.”

“They really do hate us, don’t they?” Lily asks, surprised that everyone, not just Gryffindors are angry with the four first years. “Gryffindor was the closest they’ve come to beating us in 7 years,” Draco says shrugging. “I know, it’s just…” Lily begins. “Sometimes you wonder if people can like us,” Sophie continues for her. The redhead nods, “Yeah. It feels like everyone is against us.” The group nods. “Come on,” Theo says, “Let’s go. We don’t want to be late for Herbology.”

“How is it that Cel gets off scot-free with her house,” Ron complains, “and we become unpopular with everyone but the Slytherins. They lost nearly as many points as we did.” As they pass some of older Slytherins, who smile at them. “I don’t know, Ron,” Hermione says, “Just leave it alone.” Ron huffs, glaring at another set of Slytherins, who laugh in response.

-~=~-~=~-~=~-

“So, Miss Potter, it has been brought to my attention that you have made a unique device for potion-making, the Elixrall,” Professor Dumbledore begins surprising the young witch deep in study. “I have, Professor,” Celeste answers, nervously. “Have you made another?” Dumbledore asks, “I don’t wish to take Mr. Longbottom’s.” Lily swallows, moving toward the cabinet in her potions room, “I made two just in case. It also makes it easier to replicate.” The Headmaster nods, taking the silver and opaque ball from her outstretched hand. He holds it up staring at it intently, “Ingenius. How does it know the potion?”

Celeste’s eyes light up, turning around to her book and flicking it to a page, saying, “_Exemplum consequat_,” (copy recipe) doing a nice swish and flick movement on the name of the potion, golden light travels down the page until reaching the end of the recipe. It lingers before disappearing. She then turns to Dumbledore and taps the ball with the tip of her wand, “_Finalem._” The ball’s center glows gold for a moment, before fading back to opaque. “Then all you have to do is say the recipe’s name as you begin. It’s basically coding it,” Lily says, “I ‘programmed’ Neville’s to know all the potions we learn as first years.”

“Brilliant,” Dumbledore exclaims softly, shaking his head, “How did you think of this?” Celeste smiles, “Neville’s Remembrall.” Dumbledore hums, “The reason why it has a similar name. Professor Snape and I will bring this to the attention of the Ministry. You have a bright future before you, Miss Potter.” Celeste smiles, “Thank you, Professor. But I wasn’t doing it for anything other than to help…” The headmaster nods, “I know and that is what makes your future all the brighter. Good day, Miss Potter.”

-~=~-~=~-~=~-

“This is amazing, Lily,” Theo exclaims, holding the ball in awe. “That’s why Longbottom is doing better, isn’t it?” Draco asks knowingly, smirking when she blushes. “Hopefully he’s learned from it, next week is our exams,” Sophie adds. “I know but there isn’t anything to do about that…” Lily replies sadly. There’s a knock on the door and the Slytherins panic that someone has found their private study room. “Yes, Professor Snape?” Lily says, answering the door rolling her eyes at her friends.

The Potions Master glances inside the potion-making room, before handing her something “These are for you and Mr. Malfoy about your detentions.” Lily winces, “Thank you, Professor.” Draco stands taking the note as Snape continues lower, “The Ministry will be in contact. They accepted the patent for the Elixrall.” He nods at the happy smile on her face before leaving. Draco groans, “Our detention is tonight at eleven with the Gryffindors.” Lily sighs, “Lovely.” Her friends snicker.

“Ready, Lils?” Draco asks waiting for her with sulking Caelum in the empty common room. Lily nods, “Let’s get this over with.” Draco chuckles, following his cousin already at the door. They merge with the four Gryffindors and stop before a smirking Filch. “You’ll be serving your detention with Hagrid tonight,” Filch begins, “in the Forbidden Forest.” The seven share panicked looks, as they follow the caretaker and Mrs. Norris to Hagrid’s Hut.

“Still mourning the bloody dragon, are you?” Filch asks, watching a sniffing Hagrid in disgust, “You are going into the Forest. You’ll need your wits with you.” There’s a horrified gasp, “We can’t go in there! Students aren’t allowed!” Caelum exclaims. “We’re investigatin’,” Hagrid begins, patting Fang and ignoring the first year, “Follow me.” The first years nod, hurriedly following him. They’re silent until one sees a puddle of silvery liquid.

“Hagrid, what is that?” Celeste points to it. The groundskeeper follows grimacing when he sees it, “Unicorn blood. Somethin’s been attacking the herd we here to find what…” Lily looks horrified at Draco who’s swallowing nervously. “We’ll split up, the Potters with Lestrange and Malfoy. While Ron, Hermione, and Longbottom are with me. If you get into trouble, red sparks.” Draco holds Lily’s shaking hand, “Can we get Fang?”

“He’s a coward,” Hagrid replies, grimly. _It’s better than nothing, _Draco thinks darkly, _we’re just first years…_ “This is a bit extreme, isn’t it?” Lily asks her hand petting Fang, trying to reassure them both. “It is,” Draco snorts. “Oh, are you going to cry to your father, Malfoy,” Harry sneers. “Harry!” Lily exclaims softly. Her brother ignores her, “Just admit that you’re scared.” Draco scoffs, “Aren’t you, Potter? We are first years, what use are we against anything in these woods. Nothing.”

“Shh,” Lily hushes, hearing something in the dark of the woods. Harry swallows hearing the slight tremor of fear in her voice, grabbing her hand, “Sorry Cel.” His sister nods, her eyes flicking everywhere in the forest beyond. The quartet stays silent as they go before stopping and freezing around a bend. Finding the injured unicorn, dead and something hunch over it drinking its blood.

Celeste’s throat closes around a scream as the creature lifts its head towards them. Blinding pain from their matching scars sends both Potters to the ground. The screams of their companions are white noise as the creature slithers toward them. In their fear, both Draco and Lestrange run as the creature fully stands. The pain in Potters’ scars worsens as the creature looms closer until it disappears as something leaps over the twins.

“Are you alright?” a soft gentle voice asks. The twins look up to see a half-man, half-horse in front of them, a centaur. “Yes,” Lily replies, recovering first. “I am Firenze,” the centaur continues, “The forest is not safe. Least of all for the two of you.” Lily swallows her eyes on the unicorn, Firenze follows her gaze, “Do you know the curse of drinking unicorn blood, Celeste Potter?”

“Yes. Unicorn blood can keep you alive even if you are close to death, but your life will be cursed once the blood touches your lips.” Firenze nods, “A half-life.” Harry closes his eyes, “Who would choose that?” The centaur lifts an eyebrow, “Can you think of no one?” Both sets of green-blue eyes widen, saying as one, “Voldemort.”

“Do you know what lays in the castle at this very moment?” Firenze continues, glances up at the sky to see red sparks nearby. “The stone,” Celeste answers in horror. As light filters through the trees and someone launches themself at the twins, a worried Hermione. “The two of you alright?” Hagrid asks as he watches Draco hug Lily. The stunned silent twins' nod, pale and lightly shaking.

The twins stay at each other's side all the way back to the castle. Tense and shaking, clinging to each other. When they part, they hug each other tightly. On the walk to the Slytherin common room, Lily runs a finger down her tender scar. “Lils? You okay?” Draco asks, uneasily. “I’m—I will be…” she replies. _I hope I am…_

-~=~-~=~-~=~-

“There’s something I need to tell you,” Lily states at breakfast the next day. “Okay, what is it?” Blaise asks, frowning when Lily shakes her head, “Not here.” The group shares an uneasy glance before they each nod, “Okay…” Lily glances at the Headmaster, whispering an apology. Almost like he knows, Dumbledore’s eyes flick to her and he bobs his head. _Almost like he’s giving me permission._

“There’s what?!” Theo exclaims, “How did you know this?” Lily sighs, “Well, I saw the three-headed dog, Fluffy, and quite a few people have confirmed the stone is here.” Sophie crosses her arms, “Why didn’t you tell us earlier?” Draco snorts, “It’s the same reason she’s been trying to stop Harry. It doesn’t concern us, so we shouldn’t be worried about it.” Lily swallows, “About that… that thing we saw drinking the unicorn's blood, that was… that was You-Know-Who.” Everyone gasps, “Lily!?”

“Are you sure?” Draco asks, pale. “Yes,” Lily says sadly but determinedly, “Harry and mine’s scar hurt and Firenze confirmed. He’s after the Stone.” Theo swallows, “Do you think he’ll try to kill you again…?” Lily’s eyes close, “I think he would of last night if not for Firenze.” The four Slytherins hug her tightly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -~=~-~=~-~=~-~=~-~=~-~=~-  
Thanks for reading! I hope ya'll enjoy it and sorry for any mistakes. Positive feedback is greatly appreciated!


	17. Through the Trapdoor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Italic are thoughts*  
*Underlined and italicized words are books*  
~ Happy Reading! ~  
There's a second chapter for you to make up for me missing last week, and since Ch 16 is so short.

Chapter 17 | Through the Trapdoor

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“What are you fretting about Cel,” Harry exclaims after the Potion exam, “you’re brilliant!” Celeste rolls her eyes, “I’m not fretting. I just want to make sure I’m doing well.” The Gryffindor boys snort causing both bookworms to glare at them. “There’s nothing wrong about wanting to succeed,” Hermione sniffs. As the boys’ snicker, Cel glances at her friends. The Slytherins all bob their heads, reassuring the young witch. Her eyes only return to the trio of lions, when Harry gasps his eyes on Hagrid sitting outside. Concerned, she glances at her brother and he meets her eyes. “What are the chances that Hagrid could get something he’s always talked about?” Horror enters her eyes, “Merlin! Why didn’t we see it earlier!?”

“What? See what?” Ron exclaims as the twins’ hurry toward their oldest friend. He gets no answer. Hagrid beams at them, before frowning at the serious faces of the twins. “Hagrid, this is going to sound odd. But do you remember anything about the man who gave you Norbert?” Hagrid’s face twists, “No. I never saw his face, he kept his hood up.” Harry glances at Cel as the two lions catch on. “What did you talk about?” Hermione asks sweetly. “Oh, about Hogwarts an’ such. He asked wha’ creatures I cared fer. An’ I said after Fluffy a dragon’s no trouble.” The students share a look of dread. “Did he seem interested in Fluffy?” Harry asks.

“Of cou’se, he was. How many three-headed dogs are there?” Hagrid answers, “I told him, one thing with creatures is you need ter know how ter calm them. Take Fluffy, all you need ter do is play a bit of music and he falls straight asleep.” The four gasp in horror, the twins sharing a look of hopelessness. The four hurry toward the castle and Harry begins, “That was Snape. He knows…” Cel doesn’t even roll her eyes, “We need to tell the Headmaster.” Harry nods, and they race toward the office. Only to run across Professor McGonagall.

“Sorry Professor, but we need to speak to Professor Dumbledore,” Celeste begins, wincing. “He’s off to London to meet with the Minster. Whatever it is,” McGonagall replies, “can wait until he returns.” Harry shakes his head, “He’s gone? But this is important. It’s about the Sorcerer’s Stone.” McGonagall’s eyes widen, “I have no idea how you even know about it. Harry shakes his head, “S—Someone is going to try to steal it.” The Transfiguration professor tsks, “It is perfectly safe. Go enjoy your Friday.”

“Perfect!” Ron mutters, “Dumbledore is gone.” Harry’s jaw tightens, “Somehow Snape managed to lure Dumbledore away. That means tonight, he’s going after the stone.” Hermione bites her lip, “There must be something we can do.” Harry nods, “We’re going in tonight.” Cel gasps, “Harry?!” Her brother glares at her, “What are points and school when our parents’ murderer is back? Because that is what is at stake, Cel!” His sister’s eyes narrow, “How dare… What can we, four first years, do against, possibly, two fully trained wizards!? Harry think!” Harry winces, before shaking his head, “We go tonight.” Cel huffs, “Fine, I’ll meet you out here after curfew.”

“You’re coming?” Ron asks. “Of course,” Cel sniffs, “I’m not letting my idiotic brother get himself killed,” sending him a pointed look, “without trying to be there to protect him. Besides, it is best to have two brilliant minds.” Hermione chuckles before the Slytherin witch says her goodbyes and heads to her common room. “You look pale,” Sophie states, “what’s wrong?” The three boys share a look before moving toward the girls, “Lily?” Her eyes close, “Dumbledore isn’t here…” Blaise lifts an eyebrow, “So? He’s gone a lot…” Draco elbows him, and his eyes widen as he curses, “Merlin! I’m sorry, Lily.”

“So that it then? You-Know-Who is coming back?” Sophie whispers. Tears gather in Lily’s eyes as she shakes her head, “We’re going to try to get in before him.” Draco glances at Theo, “You mean tonight?” They watch her nod. Sophie hugs her, “We’ll be good distractions.” Lily smiles sadly at her friends, “Thank you.” The boys join in the hug.

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The girls' plan is simple, tire out their dormmates with gossip so they wouldn’t notice Lily leave after curfew. It works flawlessly. Once out of her dorm, Lily brings out her invisibility cloak and slides silently to the door it isn’t a long wait before an older Slytherin enters the hall and she slips past. The boys are keeping those that are awake distracted, so they don’t see her leave. She feels a bit like a ghost floating through the halls until she stops at the Gryffindor common room, somehow knowing her brother is still there. She ducks into a dark corner, waiting for the swing to the portrait.

Lily’s eyes close once it does, taking off the cloak and putting it in her bag. Waiting for the whispered, “Cel?” before moving from her spot. It’s crowded under the cloak when she slips under. “What’s with the bag?” Ron whisper irritated as it hits him, “have a library in there?” Cel ignores him, taking Harry’s flute and putting it in her bag, “What took you so long?” Harry whispers, “Neville,” Cel frowns, “Neville?” Ron snickers, “He stood up to us. Hermione dealt with it.” She can feel her friend’s pride, “The Full Body-Bind Curse.” The Slytherin shakes her head and they continue silently.

Unease ripples through the four seeing the door to Fluffy’s room ajar. Inside, Fluffy blinks awake, and the four spot a harp laying on the floor. Silently, Celeste hands the flute to Harry as he removes the cloak. Immediately Harry begins to play a lullaby. Fluffy’s eyes droop closed in sleep as the four head to the trap door. Harry continues playing as they open it, peering inside. He swallows at the look of unease in Cel’s eyes when she glances at him. She sighs when he nods, then slips into the hole. Her brother swallows his fear of whatever danger he’s put her into. There’s a three-note whistle, signaling it's safe then Hermione and Ron follow. Then Harry grabs his cloak and follows, ending his song.

Cel shivers as she’s joined by the others and begins looking around. “What is this?” Ron asks, shivering himself. “It’s a plant of some sort,” Hermione snaps. “Really? Hadn’t noticed!” Ron snipes back. “It’s hard to think you two,” Cel interrupts seeing her friend open her mouth to reply. Then vines wrap around Cel’s ankles and she groans, seeing other vines wrap around the Gryffindor’s. The girls share a look as the boys start struggling. “Stop moving!” Cel shouts, herself unmoving. “It’s Devil’s Snare,” Hermione continues, frozen in place. “That’s a great help, knowing its name. Thanks.” But the girls can’t answer as vines have wrapped around their mouths. Then, to the boys' horror, they’re taken into the plant.

“Cel! Hermione!” they scream, renewing their fight against the plant. “Relax,” echoes Cel’s voice from below them, “We’re fine.” Then Hermione, “If you don’t, it’ll only kill you faster!” Harry hears the plea and trusts in the girls. Closing his eyes, he relaxes and feels himself being dragged into the plant. It’s quite the fall but he joins the girls. Ron screams in horror, struggling even more. “He isn’t listening!” Hermione whispers angrily, “Why isn’t he listening?!” Cel closes her eyes as a vine wraps around Ron’s mouth, silencing his screams. “What did Professor Sprout say. It's deadly fun... but will sulk in the sun!”

“So, light a fire!” Harry replies. “There isn’t any wood!” Hermione exclaims. Above they hear, “HAVE YOU GONE MAD? ARE YOU A WITCH OR NOT?” The girls’ wince, as Cel points her wand to where Ron is, “_Lumos Solem_!” A burst of bright yellow emerges from her wand creating an aura of sunlight around him and he joins them below. “Lucky, we didn’t panic,” Ron mutters, his face matching his hair. “Lucky, the girls pay attention in Herbology.” Harry corrects. His friend snorts, “And that Cel remembers she’s a witch. ‘There’s no wood,’ honestly.”

“Come on,” Harry replies before the girls could respond. They continue, walking down a corridor eerily similar to Gringotts. The twins share a glance, both thinking of the supposed dragon guarding the vaults. As they near the next door they hear soft rustling and clinking. “You hear that you right?” Ron asks, relieved at the others nods, “A ghost?” Cel shakes her head, “Sounds like wings.” Sure enough, they see dozens of bright jewel-like objects flying above them. On the other side, they see another door. Harry glances at his sister before racing across the room. He has his arms wrapped protectingly around his head, expecting beaks and talons. But none come even as he reaches the door. He tries the handle, locked. Soon the others join them, but the door doesn’t budge even with Alohomora.

“Now what?” Ron asks, looking hopelessly at the bookworms who look just as stumped. Cel shakes it off moving to the middle of the room, looking at the bird-like creatures above. Harry joins her, both noticing at the birds glittering, “They’re keys! Winged keys!” Cel looks around, finding a floating broom off to the side, “Looks like we’ve got to catch the key.” Harry follows her eyes and nods. “But there are hundreds of keys,” Hermione exclaims. Ron glances at the door, “We’re looking for a big, old fashioned one—probably silver like the handle.” The Potters search the keys. “There,” Cel points, “the one with bright-blue wings, one of its wings is bent.” Harry follows and nods, surprised that his sister noticed it. He glances at the broom and swallows. “What’s wrong Harry?” his sister asks. “Yeah,” Ron continues, “If Snape could catch it you can. You are the youngest Seeker in a century.” Harry glances at Cel, who nods and he grabs the broom.

Suddenly the sound of fluttering wings intensives and the keys start moving towards him to attack. Harry bats the keys away as he mounds and takes off. Both Potters search for the key. Cel’s nerves rattle as she watches, the other two by the door awaiting the key. She calms when she sees Harry’s hand grab the key and fly down toward her, tossing the winged key toward her. Leaping to catch it, she races to Ron and Hermione to unlock the door. Once done she lets the key go and it flutters to the others and the keys calm allowing Harry to land unbothered.

The quartet shares a nervous look as they enter the next room. One filled with a large chessboard and life-sized pieces. “Wizard’s chess,” Ron announces from the center. “So, what are we going to do?” Harry whispers. “It’s obvious, isn’t it?” Ron replies, “We’ve got to play our way across the room.” Hermione looks fearfully at the white pieces, “How exactly?” Ron swallows, “As chess pieces probably,” before walking toward a black knight. As soon as Ron touches it, the horsemen and horse springs to life, “Do we have to,” he swallows again, “to join you to get across?” The knight nods and Ron swallows, “Well, this needs thinking about. Cel?“

“I’ll help where I can, Ron, but you’ve won most of our games,” Cel replies. The other redhead nods, “Okay, as you are the best, Cel, you are the queen.” Cel’s eyes widen, but she nods determinedly. “Hermione, you’ll be the kingside castle. Harry, the kingside bishop.” Harry swallows, “And you?” Ron glances at Cel, “The queenside knight.” The four watch as those four pieces move off the board. The four take their places, each worried about the game ahead. “Now white moves first, and,” he glances at Cel, “the game begins.” As he finishes, a white pawn moves two spaces.

Ron directs the black pieces, who move silently to obey. Their first loss is their kingside knight. The white queen smashes him to the floor before dragging him off the board. Shaken, Cel glances at a pale Ron, He swallows when she nods, both knowing his usual strategy of using his queen as his main attacker. “I trust you,” she mouths and Ron nods, standing a bit straighter. “Ron?” Harry questions, nervous as he was closest to the knight. “Had to happen,” Ron states, stronger than he looks, “Hermione, take the bishop.” Hermione and Harry share a look before she moves. Once she is in front of the bishop, he leaps off the board and she takes his place.

The white pieces show no mercy on those that they take. Soon there’s an alarmingly large pile of fallen black pieces off the board. So far Ron’s managed, with help from Cel, to keep the four of them safe. Himself and Cel take most of the pieces, pleased that the pile of white matches their losses. “Nearly there,” Ron mutters, glancing up as Cel gasps, as her counterpart, the white queen faces him. “Yes,” Ron continues, “it’s the only way.” Cel shakes her head, “No, Ron, no.” Ron glances at her, “There’s no other way, Cel. I’ve got to be taken.”

“NO!” both Hermione and Harry exclaim catching on to their conversation. “That is chess,” Ron says, still glancing at Cel, “To win you make sacrifices!” He turns to Harry, “Once I move, she’ll take me. That leaves you to checkmate the king, Harry.” Cel’s eyes close after flicking around the room, “He’s right, Harry, there’s no other way.” Harry looks at her in horror, “But…” Cel shakes her head as Ron looks at him, thankful for Cel’s support, “Do you want to stop Snape or not?”

“Ron…” Harry begins before being cut off. “If you don’t hurry, he’ll get the Stone!” Harry looks sadly at his sister and nods his approval. “Ready?” Ron calls, his face still pale but determined, “Alright. Don’t hang around once we win.” The queen pounces on him once he stops, hitting him across the head with her stone arm. Cel watches in horror as he crashes to the floor, the urge to move. To go to him, strong enough to make her nearly step forward. But she doesn’t, she stays watching as the queen pulls him off the board. Harry glances at her, seeing her nod shakily and he moves three paces to the left.

“Checkmate,” Harry states and the white king removes his crown and throws it at Harry’s feet. The remaining chess pieces bow and part, making a path to the door. Shakily the trio goes through, where Cel buries her head on Harry’s shoulder, shaking. Hermione rubs her back, unable not to ask, “What if he…” Harry’s hold on his sister tightens, “He isn’t_.” He can’t be._ “What do you think is next?”

“We’ve had Sprout’s, the Devil’s Snare,” Hermione answers, “Flitwick’s was probably the keys and that,” pointing toward the closed door, “was probably McGonagall’s.” Cel nods, “Which leaves Snape’s and Quirrell’s.” The trio glance at each other before continuing to the other door. “Ready? Harry asks. On seeing the responding nods, he pushes open the door. The first thing they notice is the horrid smell then the cause. It is laying flat on the floor in front of them. A troll, much larger than the one they had tackled, out cold with a bloody lump on its head.

“Glad we didn’t have to face that one,” Harry whispers before pulling the girls to the other side then pulling open the next door. Each tries to hide their fear as they enter the exit room, scared for what’s next. On the other side, nothing is frightening, just a simple table with seven differently shaped bottles. “Professor Snape’s,” Cel sighs. “What do we have to do?” Harry asks, thinking this is easy. Just as they fully step into the room, a purple fire springs up behind them. At the same time, a black flame shoots up leading onward, trapping them.

“Look!” Hermione exclaims, grabbing a roll of parchment lying by the bottles. Aloud she reads:

_Danger lies before you, well safety lies behind,_

_Two of us will help you, whichever you would find,_

_One among us seven will let you move ahead,_

_Another will transport the drinker back instead,_

_Two among our number hold only nettle wine,_

_Three of us are killers, waiting hidden in line._

_Choose unless you wish to stay here forevermore,_

_To help you in your choice we give you these clues four:_

_First, however, slyly the poison tries to hide_

_You will always find some some on nettle wine's left side;_

_Second, different are those who stand at either end,_

_But if you would move onward, neither is your friend;_

_Third, as you see clearly, all are different size,_

_neither dwarf nor giant holds death in their insides;_

_Fourth, the second left and the second on the right_

_Are twins once you taste them, though different at first sight._

Hermione sighs, and to Harry’s surprise, smiles at Cel, “Brilliant! This isn’t magic—it’s logic—a puzzle. A lot of the greatest wizards haven’t got an ounce of logic, they’d be stuck in here forever.”

Harry’s concern grows, “But so will we, won’t we?” Cel snorts, rolling her eyes, “But we aren’t your typical wizards or witches.” Hermione grins, “No, we aren’t!” Harry shakes his head as he watches the girls talk out the puzzle. Both then grin, “We got it. The smallest bottle will get us through the black fire.” Harry glances at it, frowning, there’s barely enough for two let alone three. Cel winces when he voices this, glancing at Hermione.

“That’s why the two of us, Harry, are taking it,” Cel replies. “And I’ll,” Hermione continues, “take the one to go back through the purple fire and get Ron.” Harry’s mouth opens then he nods, “Okay. Take the broom, it’ll get you past the Snare and Fluffy, then go to the Owlery and send a letter to Dumbledore,” he pauses glancing at Cel, “we’ll need him. Cel and I may be able to hold Snape off but not for long.” Hermione nods, “But,” she swallows glancing at the twins, “what if You-Know-Who is with him?” Harry winces, glancing at his sister, “We hope we get lucky. It happened once, didn’t it…” Hermione nods, before launching herself at both Potters, “Be careful.”

“Mia,” Cel begins, watching her friend’s eyes fill with tears, “we’ll be fine. We have each other and we’ll see you soon.” Hermione nods, and Harry looks nervously at the bottle, “You’re sure you’re right?” The girls roll their eyes, “Positive.” Harry grumbles, “Hermione, drink first.” Cel and Hermione share another hug before the Gryffindor drinks the potion from the round bottle at the end and shudders. “It’s not poison, right?” Harry asks anxiously causing Cel to huff. “No.” Hermione answers, “but it is like ice.”

“Quickly, Mia, go,” Cel urges. “Please be careful, Harry, Ce—Lily, please,” Hermione states before vanishing through the purple fire. “Ready?” Harry asks, picking up the smallest bottle. His sister nods and both walk to the black fire. Harry drinks first, before giving the remaining half to Cel to finish. Both shudder as they feel everything seems to turn to ice. Then holding hands they step through the fire, “Here I come.” Their grip on the other tightens as flames lick their bodies, but there’s no burn and they step through safely.

The Potter twins continue to hold hands as they walk through the corridor. Silent. The only thing they can hear is their hearts pounding. Harry looks at his sister in sympathy as they reach the door. Now they will know who was right, they squeeze each other’s hands as Harry opens the door. Both gasp when they see the person in the room. Someone who wasn’t Snape, it wasn’t even Voldemort.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've tried to combine both the books and the movies together and not make Ron only the comedian. Also, I didn't want to take away Ron's victory just because Celeste/Lily can occasionally beat him in chess. Her skill is mostly to test him to become better. Ron also may or may not have a slight crush on her. He does it's why he made her his 'Queen'. Sorry if that's too cheesy for you, but I thought it was cute. That's also why he chooses to be a queenside knight to, in a way, protect her.  
Hope everyone had a good Easter and is staying stay. Hopefully, things will get better. I love you all, and I'm so happy that you've been enjoying this story. We have one chapter left. And don't worry, I already have started on the next book.  
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Thanks for reading! I hope ya'll enjoy it and sorry for any mistakes. Positive feedback is greatly appreciated!


	18. The Man with Two Faces

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Our last chapter! It does get a little dark as, well, the man is trying to kill two eleven-year-olds. When isn't he, really?  
*Italic are thoughts*  
*Underlined and italicized words are books*  
~ Happy Reading! ~

Chapter 18 | The Man with Two Faces

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“You!” Harry exclaims. shaking his head in disbelief, “But I thought—Snape—” The professor smiles his voice calm, “Me. I wondered whether I’d be meeting the two of you here, Potters. Severus?” he laughs coldly, nothing like the professor they knew or thought they did, “Yes, he does seem the type, doesn’t he. So useful having him swooping around like an overgrown bat. Next to him, who would suspect p-p-poor, st-stuttering P-Professor Quirrell?” Harry still couldn’t believe it, “But Snape tried to kill me!”

“No, no, no, I tried to kill you,” Quirrell’s voice a near growl, “If Severus’ cloak hadn’t caught fire and broken my eye contact, I would have. I’d have managed it before if Severus hadn’t been muttering a countercurse, trying to save you.” Cel crosses her arms, planning to save that for later as Harry’s eyes widen, “He was trying to save me?” Quirrell laughs, “Of course, it’s why he refereed your next match. Dumbledore attending stopped any attempt on my part through. All the professors thought he was just trying to stop Gryffindor from winning. Made him a bit unpopular… and a waste of time as I’m going to kill you tonight.”

“No, you aren’t,” Cel breaks in, standing protectively in front of her brother. “Ah, yes, the little princess,” Qurriell begins, “Everyone’s favorite student. It’s a pity you followed your brother. There were such hopes for you, but like your brother, you’ll die tonight,” ending with a snap of his fingers and ropes coil around them like snakes. “You, Potters, are far too nosy to survive. Scurrying around on Halloween, for all I knew you may’ve seen me going to look at what was guarding the Stone.”

“I have a knack with trolls you see,” Quirrell continues, “you saw my handy work. Unfortunately, Severus wasn’t fooled, he already suspected me, so he went to the third-floor corridor to head me off. I was so angry that not only my troll didn’t beat you to death but the blasted dog didn’t even manage to bite Severus’ leg off. Now, silence, I need to examine this interesting mirror.” Cel glances at Harry as both recognize the mirror, the Mirror of Erised.

“The mirror is the key somehow,” Quirrell mutters, “Trust Dumbledore to think of something like this… but he’s in London… and I’ll be gone by the time he gets back…” Cel panics, trying to think of anything to stop this as Harry says, “I saw you and Snape in the forest…” Cel glances at him, mouthing, ‘Really?’ Harry shrugs, ‘It might work…’ Qurriell waves it away unbothered, “Severus was on to me by then. He was trying to frighten me, wanting to know how far I got. As if he could, with Lord Voldemort on my side…”

Fear enters Cel’s eyes, hearing the devotion in their professor’s voice. “I see the stone… I’m presenting it to my master… but where is it?” Cel and Harry share a look, _more._ “But Snape always seems to hate me.” Cel rolls her eyes as Quirrell chuckles, “Oh, he does. He went to school with your father. They loathed each other. but he never wanted you dead.” Harry’s brow knits together, “The other day… you were sobbing.” The twins see a spasm of fear cross the Defense professor's face, “Sometimes, I find it hard to follow my master’s instructions—he is a great wizard and I am weak…”

“Your master was there?” Cel exclaims, horror entering her eyes. “Oh, he’s always with me,” Quirrell replies, “I came across him on my journey around the world. A foolish young man I was then, with foolish ideas about good and evil. There is no good and evil, there is only power, and those too weak to seek it… Since then, I have served my master faithfully, although I have disappointed him many times.” Cel grimaces as the professor shivers. She can only imagine what a murderer would see fit as punishment for failing him. “He does not easily forgive mistakes. When I failed to steal the stone from Gringotts, he was most displeased. He punished me… and decided a closer watch on me was needed.”

Harry glances at Cel, knowing them both were lecturing themselves on their stupidity. As they do, Quirrell refocuses on the mirror, cursing under his breath, “I don’t understand… is the Stone inside the mirror.” The twins share a look, getting an idea. Cel’s eyes close as Harry tries to get a good look in the mirror. He’s thrilled he knows something that the professor doesn’t. How the mirror works. Both thinking the same thing, _What I want most is to get the Stone before Quirrell. Please let us get it._

“What does this mirror do? How does it work? Help me, Master?” Quirrell states. To the twins' horror, they hear a response from Quirrell himself, “Use the children… Use the children…” Quirrell turns toward them, “Come here, Potters, now!” clapping his hands and the ropes around them disappeared. “Come here,” he repeats, “look into the mirror and tell me what you see.” Harry grabs Cel’s hand and together they walk toward him. Even without looking, they were having a silent conversation. _“Lie, Harry.” _A squeeze to her hand, _“I will.”_ Both silently hoping their lie will work.

Once in front of the mirror, they stop and Quirrell moves behind them. Close enough that they can smell the funny odor his turban reeks of. Both close their eyes as they step fully up to the mirror. Opening them, they see their scared reflections, but then they smile. Cel’s smile familiar, a knowing one. The reflection pulls out a blood-red stone from her pocket and hands it to Harry’s reflection. It winks at them and puts the Stone in its pocket. In the same instant, Harry’s pocket becomes heavy. Stifling a gasp, he squeezes Cel’s hand and she sighs.

“Well?” Quirrell impatiently demands, “What do you see?” Harry glances at his sister in the mirror, who blinks in response. He takes a deep breath, “I see myself holding the Inter-House Quidditch Cup and the House Cup.” Quirrell curses, “Get out of my way.” Harry pulls Cel with him, feeling the Stone’s weigh against his leg. Internally planning on how to escape. However, his plan can’t be put into action because they go barely five steps before they hear the cold high voice again, “He lies… He lies…”

Beside Harry, Cel screams letting go of his hand. There’s a growl as she falls, “Tell me the truth, boy, or your sister will experience worse. What did you just see?” Cel’s tear-filled eyes meet his, “He already told you.” Her eyes close again, as the cold voice returns, “She lies… Let me speak to them… face to face…” Cel shakily stands with help from Harry as Quirrell answers, “Master, you are not strong enough!” He winces, as the voice answers, “I have strength enough… for this…”

The twins are rooted in place, paralyzed, as they watch Quirrell reach up to his turban beginning to unwrap it. Once the turban falls away, he turns on the spot. Both Potters can’t even open their mouths to scream, the sound lodging in their throats. Instead of the back of Quirrell’s head, is a face, a terrible face that would haunt children's dreams. It looks more snake-like than human, chalky white skin with glaring red eyes, and slits for nostrils.

“Hadrian and Celeste Potter…” it whispers, “See what I’ve become. A mere shadow and vapor… I have form only when I can share another’s body… but there have always been those willing to let me into their hearts and minds. Unicorn blood has strengthened me, these past weeks… you saw faithful Quirrell drinking it for me in the forest… and once I have the Elixir of Life, I will be able to create a body of my own… now… why don’t you give me that Stone in your pocket?”

Suddenly, the twins find that they can move, and they stumble back. Cel moving protectively in front of her brother and the Stone. The face snarls, “Don’t be fools! Better to save your own lives and join me. Young Celeste, you have so much potential. Don’t waste it like your fool of parents. They died begging for mercy…” Harry pulls Cel behind him, “LIAR!” The face laughs, the laugh from their nightmares, “How touching… Bravery… I do admire bravery… your parents were brave… I killed your father first. He put up a courageous fight… but your mother needn’t have died… she was trying to protect you… NOW, give me the Stone, unless you want her to have died in vain!”

“NEVER!” both shouts. “SEIZE THEM!” Voldemort screams as the twins move toward the flame door. The next second, Quirrell has Harry pinned to the wall, blinding agony from his scar keeping him from fighting. “No!” Celeste yells, trying to pry the professor’s hands off of him. Pain that seems to split her in two, the moment her hands touch him. To their surprise Quirrell lets go, looking at his hands that blister before their eyes. Cel moves in front of Harry as Voldemort screams, “Seize them! SEIZE THEM!”

Quirrell, heeding his Master despite the pain lunges toward the twins. The force knocking Cel to the floor, Qurriell’s hands around her throat. The anguish returns, the pain nearly blinding her as she struggles to breathe. “Leave her alone,” Harry yells before leaping, his hand around Quirrell’s own throat. He screams in pain, shrugging off Harry and leaving Celeste alone. “Master, I cannot,” he gasps, “I cannot hold… them… my hands… my hands!” His hands burned raw and the spot where Harry’s hands met his throat looks the same. Cel stands shakily, holding tight to her brother as Voldemort screeches, “THEN KILL THEM, FOOL!”

Qurriell raises his hand to follow his master’s command. But before he can direct the curse toward them, together the Potters tackle him, trying to touch any inch of skin possible. Knowing that for whatever reason, Quirrell can’t stand to be touched by them. Their pain is immense, blinding them completely but to them both, it is worth it if the other survives and the Stone is safe from the monster. The only sound they hear is shrieks of pain, Voldemort’s yells of, “KILL THEM! KILL THEM!” and other voices calling their names over and over. Their last feeling is Quirrell moving from their grasp as they fall into darkness. And fall, and fall, and fall. _We’ve failed…_

-~=~-~=~-~=~-

_Harry!_ Cel thinks, suddenly opening her eyes, blinking at the sun streaming into the room. “Ah, good afternoon, Miss Potter,” states a kind familiar voice. She waits for her eyes to focus before sitting up and looking at the speaker, “Headmaster? Where are we?” Dumbledore sighs, “You are in the hospital wing, dear girl.” She nods, her mind making sense of that, she raises a hesitant finger across her tender scar. Missing Dumbledore’s sympathetic gaze. He sees her eyes flick to her still unconscious brother, “He is fine. Just sleeping. You woke before him.”

“Oh, Harry,” Cel whispers, seeing bandages wrapped around his hands, matching the ones around her own. Harry’s eyes flicker open as soon as he hears her voice, “Cel? Cel!” sitting up quickly. “I’m here, Harry,” she responds softly. “You both are very safe,” Dumbledore adds, chuckling, “The bond of twins.” Harry blinks, just now noticing the Headmaster. He sits up straighter, “Sir! The Stone! It was Quirrell! He’s got the Stone! Sir, quick—”

“Calm yourself, dear boy, you are a little behind the times,” Dumbledore soothes, “Quirrell does not have the Stone.” Cel hears perk up at that as Harry’s focus doesn’t waver, “Then who does? Sir, I—" Dumbledore sighs, his eyes flicking to the calmer twin who’s rolling her eyes. “Harry! Calm!” his sister admonishes, “you said we are behind the times, Professor. How long have we been here?” Dumbledore smiles at her as Harry notices where they are. He calms considerably, then his eyes land on the pile of treats, really what looks like a half a candy shop which the other half is next to Celeste.

“Three days,” Dumbledore responds, then noticing Harry’s interest in the sweets adds, “Tokens from your friends and admirers. What happened down in the dungeons between you both and Professor Quirrell is a complete secret. So, naturally, the whole school knows. I believe Misters Fred and George Weasley are responsible for trying to send you both a toilet seat. No doubt they thought it’d amuse you. Madam Pomfrey, however, felt it might not be very hygienic, and confiscated it.”

“Both your friends from your Houses,” Dumbledore continues, “will be relieved that you’ve awoken. They’ve been very worried.” Cel’s eyes widen as Harry refocuses, “But, sir, the Stone—” Dumbledore chuckles at the exasperated sigh of the Slytherin, “I see you can’t be distracted for long,” glancing at Cel who ducks her head. “Very well, the Stone. Professor Quirrell did not manage to take it from you. I arrived in time to prevent that, although the two of you were doing very well on your own, I must say.”

“You got there? You got Hermione’s owl?” Harry asks. “No,” Dumbledore shakes his head, “Once I reached London, I knew where I was truly needed back here. I arrived just in time to pull Quirrell off you…” Harry exclaims, “It was you!” Dumbledore grimly, “I feared I was too late.” Cel frowns, hearing the genuine concern and fear behind it as her brother continues, “You nearly were. I don’t think we could have kept the Stone from him much longer.”

“Not the Stone,” Dumbledore gravely says, “you. The effort involved nearly killed you both. For one terrible moment, I was afraid it had. As for the Stone is has been destroyed.” Cel gasps, “Destroyed? But your friend—Nicolas Flamel—” Dumbledore chuckles, “Of course, you did your research. Do not worry, dear, Nicholas and I decided it was for the best.” Harry frowns, “But… now he’ll die, won’t he?” Dumbledore nods, “They have enough Elixir to settle their affairs but yes, they will die.” The twins look at each other in amazement and Dumbledore chuckles.

“To ones as young as you, I’m sure it seems incredible, but to Nicolas and Perenelle, it's like going to bed after a very, very long day. After all, to the well-organized mind, death is but the next great adventure. You know, the Stone isn’t a wonderful thing. As much money and life as you could want! The two things most human beings would choose above all—the trouble is, humans do have a knack of choosing precisely those things that are worst for them.” Cel looks away, puzzling about that before something else takes the forefront, “Sir? With the Stone gone, will Vol… You-Know-Who…”

“Call him Voldemort, young Potters. Always use the proper name for things,” Dumbledore interrupts, “Fear of the name increases fear of the thing itself.” Cel swallows, nodding, “Will Voldemort…” she grimaces, “He still has other ways to come back, doesn’t he? He isn’t gone…” Dumbledore’s eyes turn sad, “No, he isn’t. He is still out there somewhere, perhaps looking for another body to share… not truly alive but not dead either. He left Quirrell to die. He shows just as little mercy to his followers as his enemies. Nevertheless, young Potters, while you may only have delayed his return, it’ll only take another prepared to fight a losing battle next time. And,” his smile is slightly sad, “if he’s delayed over and over again, why he may never fully return.”

Cel and Harry share a glance, before Harry nods, “Sir, we have other questions. Things we want the truth about…” Dumbledore sighs, “The truth. It’s a beautiful and terrible thing. Something to be treated with great caution. However, I shall endeavor to answer your questions unless I have a good reason not, in which case I beg you to forgive me. I shall not, of course, lie.” Harry nods, swallowing, unable to look at Cel, “Well… Voldemort said he only killed our mother because she tried to stop him from killing us. But why would he want to kill us in the first place?”

The great wizard closes his eyes, sighing deeply, “Alas, the first question you ask, I cannot tell you. Not today. Not now. You will know, one day… put it from your mind, for now. When you are older… I know you hate to hear this… when you are ready, you will know.” Harry looks down, knowing it isn’t wise to argue. “Why couldn’t Quirrell touch us?” Cel asks, perking up her brother. “Your mother died to save you. If there is one thing Voldemort cannot understand, it is love.”

“He,” Dumbledore continues, “didn’t realize that love as powerful as a mother’s for her children leaves its own mark. Not a scar, no visible sign… to be loved so deeply, so purely, even though the one who loves us is gone, gives us some protection forever. It is in your very skin, your being. Quirrell, full of hatred, greed, and ambition, sharing his soul with Voldemort, could not touch you for this reason. It is agony to touch a person marked by something so pure.”

By the time the Headmaster finishes, the twins are sitting side by side, clinging to each other. Both blink away tears as Dumbledore becomes interested in the window seal. “The invisibility cloak, do you know who sent it to me?” Harry asks once he is able. “Ah,” the Headmaster chuckles, “your father happened to leave it in my possession, and I thought you might like it. Useful thing… your father used it mainly for sneaking off to the kitchens to steal food when he was here.”

“Something else…” Harry trails off, knowing he needs to do something for Cel. “Fire away, Harry,” Dumbledore replies, chuckling at his expression hearing his nickname from the headmaster. “Quirrell said that Snape…” Harry winces with his sister’s silent admonishment. “Professor Snape, Harry,” adds Dumbledore. Harry sighs, glancing at his sister, “Professor Snape hates me because he hates our father. Is that true?” _Although that doesn’t seem to extend to Cel…_

“Well, they both detested each other. Not unlike yourself, Harry, and,” Dumbledore glances at Celeste, “a select few of the Slytherins.” The Slytherin winces and he continues, “and then, your father did something Snape could never forgive.” Cel frowns, her interest peaked, wondering if it has to do with her mother but still asks, “What?” Dumbledore smiles at her, winking knowingly, “He saved his life.” _Wow_, Cel thinks as Harry exclaims, “What?” Dumbledore chuckles, “Yes… funny, the way people’s minds work, isn’t it? Professor Snape couldn’t bear being in your father’s debt…”

“I do believe he worked so hard to protect you this year because he felt that would make him and your father even,” Dumbledore continues, glancing knowingly at the young Slytherin, “Then he could go back to hating your father’s memory in peace…” Harry frowns as Cel nods. “There’s one more thing, professor,” Cel begins, pausing with Dumbledore’s lifted eyebrow, “Just the one, Lily?” She blushes, “How did we get the Stone?”

“Ah, now, I’m glad you asked. It’s one of my more brilliant ideas, and between you and me, that’s saying something. You see only the person who wanted to find the Stone… find it but not use it… would be able to get it, otherwise, they’d just see themselves making gold or drinking Elixir of Life. My brain surprises even me sometimes… Now…” Dumbledore pauses as they hear a ruckus outside the infirmary doors and chuckles.

“Listen here!” sounds a woman’s voice, “you will let me in that room or so help me!” With that, the door swings open letting the furious woman enter. She bristles seeing the older wizard, “Were you not going to inform me, Headmaster? If I remember you told me to keep them safe. And then you,” pointing accusatorily at Dumbledore, “just let them wander off and nearly…” she pauses, swallowing, “and nearly DIE!”

“Aunt Petunia,” Cel calls, “we’re fine. Harry and I are fine.” Their aunt faces them, “From what I heard you nearly died!” She turns back to the Headmaster, “I have half the mind to pull them out of school!” Petunia sees Harry open his mouth, “I said half, Potter. I know that the best thing, however dangerous is to let your education continue. But,” she turns back, “their safety better be your number one priority, Dumbledore.”

“I cannot always guarantee their safety, Mrs. Dursley,” Dumbledore says grimly. Petunia purses her lips, “You better try! And next time, inform me! You gave those children to me to care for and I will not make the same mistakes twice!” The Headmaster tips his head, “I shall inform their Heads of Houses.” Petunia sniffs, “You better!” She holds strong until the headmaster leaves.

“How are you truly?” Petunia asks softly, her eyes betraying a motherliness the Potters have never seen. “We’re fine, Aunt Petunia, really,” Cel replies. Their aunt looks doubtful, “You had me worried. I thought…” she shakes her head, “it doesn’t matter. Lay back down, get some rest.” Both nod their heads aching, as Petunia sits at the foot of Cel’s bed humming the lullaby Harry played to Fluffy.

-~=~-~=~-~=~-

“Please, Madam Pomfrey, five minutes?” Cel pleads a bit later, hearing voices in the hall. “You need your rest,” the Matron replies. “We are resting, we’re laying down and everything!” Harry helps, with Cel adding, “Please…” Petunia chuckles behind her hand as Madam Pomfrey sighs, “Fine, five minutes only.”

“Lily!” five voices exclaim overriding the two Harry’s. The four Slytherins gather around their housemate, none paying much attention to the Gryffindor beside her or the woman. Well until she clears her throat, and the students in red and green both freeze. “They are still in some pain, so quiet.” She turns to the twins, “I’ll be speaking to Madam Pomfrey. Remember five minutes.”

“Is that…” Draco begins, before being cut off by, “Who’s…” Cel rolls her eyes, “That’s our Aunt Petunia.” Sophie glances at where she disappeared, “It’s nice she’s here.” There are answering nods from the others. “We were worried that you were…” Hermione begins before being cut off by an eager Ron, “The whole school’s talking about it. What really happened?”

Harry begins the tale that stranger and more exciting than even the rumors. Cel continues when Harry winces. Neither knowing that their audience extends past the five friends eagerly listening. Petunia closes her eyes, her fist tight as the two girls scream hearing what was under Quirrell’s turban. _I nearly lost them to the monster that took my sister…_ She stops listening once they reach the blackout, going to, in fact, speak to who she was planning to.

“The Stone’s gone?” Ron exclaims, “Flamel’s just going to die?” Harry nods, “I know, right? Dumbledore says that—what was it…?” looking at Cel, who rolls her eyes, “’To the well-organized mind, death is but the next great adventure.’” Draco chuckles shaking his head as Harry asks, “So what happened with you?” Hermione answers, “I got to Ron easily, but it took a while to wake him. By the time we went to warn Dumbledore, we met him in the entrance hall. He knew already. He said, ‘They’ve gone after him, haven’t they’ then rushed to the third floor.”

“Do you think he meant for you to do it?” Ron asks, “Sending you,” he side-eyes the Slytherins, “your gift and everything?” Hermione huffs, “If he did, one that’s terrible—you could’ve died!” Harry shakes his head, “No. he’s a funny man. I think he wanted to give us a chance. I pretty sure he knows everything that’s going on and what we were doing…” Cel snorts, “He did. I told him and Professor Snape.”

“You what!?” the two Gryffindor boys exclaim. “When you first suspected who,” Cel begins, sending a glare to her brother, “I went to Professor Snape. I told him everything. He then left and got the Headmaster, to whom I promised to try to delay you as much as I could. The reason it took so long for you to find Flamel, is that I had his book. After Christmas, I’d given up and returned the book.”

“Then brought it to my attention!” Hermione concludes. Harry glares at his sister, “Why?!” That causes an explosion, “Why?! Merlin, Potter!” Draco exclaims, “It didn’t concern you!” There’s a chuckle, “Shows how brilliant she is though,” Blaise adds, “sidetracking the lions and still blazing through classes.”

The blond smirks, eyeing the student in red, “Speaking of lions, the Claws butchered them during their match. So, Slytherin wins the House Cup, we’ll get it tomorrow at the End-of-Term feast.” They’re startled by Madam Pomfrey, “You’ve nearly had fifteen minutes, now OUT!” The Slytherins chuckle, saying their goodbyes and leaving, letting the Gryffindors say theirs. “I can’t believe you,” Harry mutters, “telling Snape.” There’s a sniff, “He’s my Head of House, Harry, and I’m still expecting an apology.”

-~=~-~=~-~=~-

“May we go to the feast, Madam Pomfrey?” Celeste asks sweetly the next morning. The Matron sighs, “Professor Dumbledore has allowed you to go. And you have another visitor.” Harry perks up as Aunt Petunia left before dinner yesterday. Their answer sidles in, Hagrid. He sits beside Harry, so he can see both Potters but with one glance he bursts into tears.

“It’s—all—my—ruddy—fault!” Hagrid sobs, “I told the evil git how ter get past Fluffy! I told him! Is was the only thing he didn’t know, an’ I told him! Yeh could’ve died! All fer a dragon egg! I’ll never drink again! I should be chucked out an’ made ter live as a Muggle!” His tears are so thick he hadn’t notice Cel rise until he feels her hand.

“Hagrid!” Cel coos softly, “Hagrid, he’d have found out somehow.” Harry nods, “Yeah. This is Voldemort we’re talking about; he’d found out even if you hadn’t.” Cel glares at him as Hagrid sobs again, “Yeh could’ve died! An’ don’ say the name!” Harry frowns, before bellowing, “VOLDEMORT!” startling both Cel and Hagrid. “Harry!” Cel exclaims, hearing a crash from where Madam Pomfrey vanished.

“Why, Cel, we’ve met and I’m calling him by his name,” Harry replies sharply, before seeing her motion to Hagrid. He deflates, “Cheer up, Hagrid, the Stone is gone, so he can’t use it. Have a chocolate frog, we’ve got loads…” Hagrid wipes his nose with the hand of his hand, “That reminds me, I’ve got yeh a present.”

“It’s not a stoat sandwich, is it?” Harry asks anxiously, grinning when he hears two laughs. “Nah,” Hagrid says, shaking his head, “Dumbledore gave me the day off yesterday ter fix it. ‘course, he shoulda sacked me—but anyway, got yeh this…” then hands each a leather-bound book, Harry’s brown and gold and Cel’s black and silver. Curiously, the twins open Harry’s, awed by the pictures waving at him. “Sent owls off ter all yer parents’ old school friends,” Hagrid continues, watching them turn the pages, “askin’ fer photos… knew yeh didn’ have any… d’yeh like it?” His answer comes from a small redhead launching to hug him.

-~=~-~=~-~=~-

The Potters walk to the end-of-term feast slowly though only one knows what probably awaits them. Cel glances at Harry, still surprised that he is holding her hand but thankful he’s forgiven her. They stop just shy of the doors, both dreading entering the now full feast.

The difference is plain as they enter together, heading to their tables after a hug. Harry shrinks as he hears the whispers begin, wincing at the colors hanging above. Cel walks with her head held high. Not once even glancing at her House colors or crest decorating the Hall for the seventh year in a row. Both ignore or try to ignore those who rise to get a better look at them.

“Another year gone!” Dumbledore says cheerfully, silencing the students below, “and I must trouble you with an old man’s wheezing waffle before we sink our teeth into our delicious feast. What a year it’s been! Hopefully, your heads are all a little fuller than they were… you have all of summer to empty them again. Now, as I understand, the House Cup needs awarding.

“The House points stand thus: In fourth place with three hundred and fifty points, Gryffindor; in third Hufflepuff, with three hundred and fifty-two; Ravenclaw has four hundred and twenty-six and Slytherin, four hundred and seventy.” Cheers erupt from the table of green and silver, the other tables silent.

“Yes, yes, well-done, Slytherin. Well-done, Slytherin,” Dumbledore continues, “However, recent events must be taken into account.” Silence falls, and Lily closes her eyes, leaning her head on Sophie's shoulder. _Please don’t… Don’t encourage him…_ “Ahem,” Dumbledore continues, “I have a few last-minute points to award. First, to Mr. Ronald Weasley…” Lily groans.

“… for the best-played game of chess Hogwarts has seen in many years, I award Gryffindor sixty points.” Slytherins stare at the headmaster as the Gryffindor’s cheers nearly raise the bewitched ceiling. Cel smiles slightly hearing Percy saying, “My brother, you know! My youngest brother! Got past McGonagall’s giant chess set!”

“Second, to Miss Hermione Granger… for the use of cool logic in the face of fire, I award Gryffindor house sixty points.” Cel sighs, as the others look at the hourglass of rubies, now level with the hourglass of emeralds. Gryffindors cheer rises when they notice they are tied. “Third, to Hadrian Potter and,” the Headmaster glances at Lily, “Celeste Potter, for pure nerve and outstanding courage, I award both Slytherin and Gryffindor houses seventy points.”

There are a few cries of outrage that the houses are still tied. But they are silenced by Dumbledore’s raised hand, “There are all kinds of courage. It takes a great deal of bravery to stand up to our enemies, but just a bit more to stand up to our friends. Therefore, I award to Mr. Neville Longbottom, thirty points.” There is an explosion of noise from the table of red as the house of green stares blankly at one another as the Headmaster continues, “Which means, we need a little change of decoration.”

Only now does Lily look up, watching disappointedly as the green banners become red and the silver, gold. A glance at the staff table, sees a giddy Professor McGonagall shaking a blank-faced Professor Snape. Her eyes then turn to the now sitting Headmaster. _Oh, what have you done, professor? Awarding this… _The Headmaster glances at her, and she shakes her head in disbelief as she claps politely.

“They hate us,” Sophie snorts as the other tables join Gryffindors cheers. “Yeah, they do,” Draco sighs, staring disappointedly at the hourglasses. “I think some changes are in order then,” Lily states, tearing her eyes away for her enthusiastically cheering brother. “Oh, like what?” states Calhoon. “We need to be a stronger House, work together more,” Lily replies, then glares at Flint, “No more cheating. We’ll win fair, show them that we’re better.”

-~=~-~=~-~=~-

“Figures you’re in the top,” Draco smirks as they look at their results the next day. “Tied with Granger,” Blaise tsks, “our little bookworm tied with a lion. Oh, the shame,” sighing dramatically, chuckling as he dodges a hit from the witch. “Looks like everyone passed,” Theo adds, rolling his eyes, “even dumb and dumber.” Sophie snorts, “Hanging with Lestrange they have to get something. Who he’d order around without them?”

“Hush,” Lily tsks, “come on, we need to pack.” They chuckle before going to their dorms. Honestly, it isn’t much work as Calhoon taught Lily a helpful spell earlier. Just a flick of her wand with a simple incantation and all her belongings are neatly packed. Sophie sighs after begging Lily to do the same for her, “I’m going to miss magic during summer.” Lily nods, joining her friend on the bed, both looking around, “Me too. A shame we can’t continue outside, but understandable I guess.” Sophie hums in agreement before they say one last goodbye to their dorm.

Draco, Theo, and Blaise join them in the common room, their trunks behind them. “Ready?” Draco asks, glancing at the two. With answering nods, the five leave the green and silver common room and the stragglers behind. Hagrid greets them where he left them on their arrival, leading them to the boats that lead them to the beautiful magical castle.

On reaching the station, the Slytherins board the Hogwarts Express, gleefully finding an empty compartment. They laugh and share sweets as Lily and Sophie tell tales of muggle life. Aquila curls up on Lily’s lap as the wild countryside becomes neater. When the greenery changes to muggle cities, they change out of their school robes. Tones getting sadder, knowing it’s soon to goodbye.

“We’ll write,” Blaise promises to a sad Lily as the train stops at King’s Cross. She chuckles, knocking into him, “You better.” Draco chuckles, “Oh, you should come to stay.” Lily chuckles, wrapping an arm around Sophie. “Both of you,” Draco continues, “I see enough of Theo and Blaise to last lifetime.” The girls chuckle at Blaise’s feigned hurt.

As they step off the train, Lily waves at those who call their goodbyes, hugging a limited few. Then they search for parents, wanting to stay together as long as they can. First Theo leaves, the girls happily greeting the kind Lady Nott. Next Blaise, leaving with his beautiful mother and her fourth husband. Then they spot the Malfoys. Sophie follows them uneasily but warms seeing how eagerly Lady Malfoy greets her.

“Lily, dear,” Lady Malfoy greets her with a hug, “You and Miss Roper should join us this summer. We’d love the company.” There’s a snort as Lestrange joins but the Slytherin girls ignore him. “We’d love too, Madam Malfoy,” both replies, chuckling at Draco’s smirk. “Good, then we’ll be in touch,” Lady Malfoy continues, chuckling as the three say their goodbyes.

“Then there were two,” Lily states with a laugh as they walk arm and arm to Harry, Ron, and Hermione. They greet Celeste with brilliant smiles, but Sophie cautiously. Both are relieved there’s no goading. Sophie leaves before they reach the gateway, seeing her family speaking with, surprisingly, Professor McGonagall. Then the Potters with Ron and Hermione go through the gateway.

“There he is, Mum, there he is, look!” shouts a young girl, “Harry Potter!” she squeals, “Look, Mum, I can see…” Her mother hushes her, “Be quiet, Ginny. It’s rude to point.” Mrs. Weasley smiles at the quartet, “Busy year?” Harry chuckles, nodding, “Very,” glancing at his sister, “Thank you for the fudge and the sweater.” Cel grins, nodding, “Yes, we loved them.”

“Oh, it was nothing, dears,” Mrs. Weasley coos. “Ready, are you?” states a man rudely. The Potters follow it to a sneering Uncle Vernon with an oddly pale Aunt Petunia and fuming Dudley behind him. “You must be the Potters’ family!” Mrs. Weasley exclaims. Vernon huffs, glaring at Petunia who shrinks, “In a manner of speaking. Hurry up, Potters, we haven’t got all day,” then walks away forcing the other Dursleys to follow.

“See you over the summer, then,” Ron begins, after sticking out his tongue at the retreating man. “Hope you have—er—a good holiday,” Hermione continues, hugging Cel and trying not to stare a such a rude man. Cel groans at Harry’s chuckle, “Oh, I will. They don’t know we’re not allowed to use magic at home. I’m going to have a lot of fun with Dudley this summer…” Cel sighs, “Harry!” He chuckles, winking at her. They follow with one last wave.

“Harry? What if this is all a dream?” Cel whispers sadly, the loneliness already seeping in. “It isn’t, Cel,” Harry replies, “Our dreams aren’t this amazing.” Cel snorts as they join an impatient Uncle Vernon. Both Dudley and Aunt Petunia are already in the car. Surprisingly, he helps load their trunks then they are on their way. Heading back to a house where they don’t exist.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I changed the number of points each was awarded, wanting Neville to earn more than ten points. I mean seriously Dumbledore ten! He deserved more. I'll admit I was irritated when Dumbledore awarded the trio. Like seriously, you want your students interfering to be a normal thing? Why would Harry ever just leave anything alone if he does and he gets awarded for it? Then he never has a normal year because now everything is his business! Honesty! (Can you tell I have a problem with it? lol) Then to add to that having Slytherin lose because of it! I bet several of those "evil" Slytherins worked hard for that win and you take it away from them to honor your dumb Lions! No wonder Slytherins hate you Dumbledore!  
Umm, well. Sorry about the rant. Funny thing is I'm a Ravenclaw, but I have a soft spot for Slytherins, especially a blond one.  
Thank you, my lovely amazing readers! I hope you've enjoyed the first book! Next week, May 5th, the 1st chapter of 2nd book will be posted.  
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Thanks for reading! I hope ya'll enjoy it and sorry for any mistakes. Positive feedback is greatly appreciated!


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